A Heroine's Legacy, A Barrier That Restrains
by Rye-bread
Summary: From my Heroine's Legacy arc.  She can do anything; including dig herself out of her grave and murder everyone you love.  How do you keep her down under?
1. Chapter 1  calling with bad news

We are at the 2 year anniversary of my divorce proceedings. Yay. Color me unresolved. Unemployed for a year and a half.

Been over at Xanga. Wrybreadspread, in case y'all are interested. Rather cumbersome to type out. Discovered blogging. A new venue of expressing my random ruminations. But like I keep saying, among my writing pursuits, fanfiction is my first love.

Approaching the 2 year anniversary of my seminal story, A Heroine's Legacy. Still composing chpts. Still working on my other fic's also. Have flirted with other fandoms, notably Beauty And The Beast.

This tale is part of my Heroine's Legacy arc. Inspired by my correspondence with Alice Shade and daccu65

We will recap. My man Captainkodak1 wrote a story based on Edgar Allen Poe's A Cask Of Amontillado, where the protagonist is sealed up alive, called A Box Of Cuddlebuddies.

My man daccu65 wrote a sequel to Cap's story: Family Legacy. The protagonist, i.e. Kim, is transformed into a ghoul.

I was intrigued. I took the theme and reworked it. Redemption by a slower means than instant transformation. Into it I put all my bad vibes. A Heroine's Legacy was born.

My gal Alice Shade had to weigh in with her variation. Beyond The Grave; We Do What We Must.

Hey, it's all good. As my man The Wise Duck once told me, "Hey, it's **fan** fiction!"

But Alice has brought up some relevant points, like the ever-resourceful K.P. would've found a way out of her prison, and her speech would've deteriorated in the decades she spent underground away from human contact and interaction.

Moi couldn't leave well enough alone. This tale was born to account for Kim's continued imprisonment.

Alice Shade uses the technique described to thwart the Undead reformation in her story.

Rounding out the recap. Tara lured Kim to her house with a box of Cuddlebuddies. She buried Kim alive. Five years later, she married Ron. They had their three kids, Lon, Roy, and Kim. When Lon was sixteen, the kids heard sounds under the cistern cover. They wanted to see what it was. Kim (Possible, not Stoppable) got out. She tried to kill Tara, Lon, and Ron. They sealed her up. And she's royally ticked off.

Now for notes. Lorrie Mankey courtesy of daccu65. Yori's last name Kansumi courtesy of Captainkodak1. Her full name Yoriko courtesy of me. Tara and Ron's kids' names courtesy of daccu65. Their full names Alonzo, Elroy, and Kimberly courtesy of me. Hirotaka's last name Abe courtesy of me. Cousin Larry's last name Rivederci courtesy

of me; a K.P.-show-naming-scheme pun "Larry" ®"arrivederci"® "Larry Rivederci". Japanese words courtesy of Google Translate.

I gotta a hang-up about details like that.

Disclaimer. This is a dark tale. Consider it a Halloween selection. It involves murder, dismemberment, death threats, and foul language. There is no happy ending. Not yet. Moi loves drama. Moi promises a glorious redemption in the parent tale of this story.

And I sought for a man among them, that should build up the wall, and stand in the gap before Me for the land, that I should not destroy it; but I found none. (Ezekiel 22:30)

For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work: only there is one that restrains now, until he is taken out of the way. (2 Thessalonians 2:7)

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**A Barrier That Restrains**_

_**chpt 1**_

Ron Stoppable wondered-should he use the modern means of communication? Or the ancient? In his left hand, he held his old Ronnunicator. His right hand was curled up into a fist.

The device was a twenty-two year old gift from his beloved K.P. At the time, it had incorporated cutting edge technology. It was now an antique-almost as primitive as an old CD player.

Wade's kids were as gifted technologically as their father was. They might somehow overhear a radio transmission. So Ron finally elected to use the more ancient form of communication.

Having decided, he lifted his clenched right hand and closed his eyes in intense concentration. A faint chattering of monkeys was just barely audible. A bright blue glow seemed to originate from his palm and seep out through his fingers.

The bright blue glow lit the room. An image of an old man in a bright red caftan with long white beard and white scalp lock appeared.

Ron addressed the man. "Sensei."

Atop Mount Yamanouchi, the old man attired in a bright red caftan sighed deeply. "My Stoppable-san?"

'I've got to come see you," said Ron somberly. Something happened."

"I feel it-an awareness came to me. I agree. It is urgent. Bring your wife and son."

Ron's lip curled in disgust. "Bring that little bitch? Hell, no!" He suppressed his rant. He heard his daughter's voice in the other room. He couldn't risk the discovery of this secret. "I'll dump her in the damn Pacific before I take another ride with her!" he hissed.

"Then bring your son only."

Next was his sister. For this the Ronnunicator sufficed. He keyed in the call sign. Hana had her own mystical ability, which he barely understood. It wasn't quite like the Mystical Monkey Power. It had more to do with her hidden ancestry as a descendent of the ninja school's founder, Toshimiru.

They had hardly seen each other since the kids were born. Ron was busy being a husband, father, and provider. Hana was-well, doing missions or reading scrolls, or Sensei-level stuff-he was never quite sure. Hana seemed like what he remembered growing up of Dad or Kim or Kim's parents-always into books or being busy. In some ways, she was more a mother to him than his own mother, Rachel Stoppable née Bergstein, had ever been.

The recorded answering message played, first in Japanese, then English. His sister's voice was lyrical and courteous, pleasing to listen to-but strangely distant.

"_Kon'nichiwa, kore wa Noriyuma Hanako ga arimasu. Mōshiwake arimasenga, watashi wa kotaeru koto ga dekinai ndesu. Anata no o namae o nokoshite."_

"_Hello, this is Noriyuma Hanako. I'm sorry that I'm unable to answer. Please leave your name." _

Ron sighed. That was another thing. Somewhere on the road to adulthood, Hana had undergone a personal change of attitude. She became markedly conscious of her ethnic heritage-to the point of abandoning the Stoppable name in favor of her birth name, as a descendent of Toshimiru, the Yamanouchi School's founder. No longer "Hana Stoppable", it was now "Noriyuma Hanako".

"Hello, Han. This is Ron." He smiled to himself at the slight rhyme.

"Ronnie-what is it?" broke in Hana's voice suddenly. "You sound awful."

It was both disappointing and encouraging. Hana was using the message to screen calls. That was considered bad form twenty years ago. Ron's own mother had scolded him for the same thing. His sister would not have picked up if it had been a mere social call. But the fact that he sounded in trouble prompted at least an appearance of sisterly concern.

"Something happened, Han. Something really bad. Lon and I are going to Yamanouchi. I could really go for having my little sister around."

"Okay-I'll see you there."


	2. Chapter 2  no happy ending

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**A Barrier That Restrains**_

_**chpt 2**_

_**no happy ending**_

At Yamanouchi, Sensei alerted his two most distinguished graduates, after Stoppable-san-Yoriko Kansumi and Hirotaka Abé. She had been a fashion model and school teacher. He had been an electronics engineer and exec for Nihonda Motors. Yet they both kept up their responsibilities as ninjas and well-doers.

Yori and Hirotaka were taking a quick meal at a small Bueno Nacho in Manila after a mission.

"You seem pensive, Yoriko-san," said Hirotaka.

"I feel a stirring in my heart, Hirotaka-san," replied Yori. Something warns me of…of…I don't know."

He reached across the booth table and took her hand. "I trust your hunches." He smiled. "It will make itself known."

Yoriko was a proper girl in her youth. She was still a proper woman. She allowed only her Hiro-san and her Ron-san such intimacies as taking her hand. She smiled back at him. "Are you reassuring me? Or flirting with me?"

He shrugged. "Who can tell? My number one girlfriend causes both to happen."

She giggled. "And now you're teasing me. You've had more number one girlfriends than fish in the sea."

Hirotaka shrugged. "Many fish, only one mission partner."

Yori fussed with her food and took a sip of her beverage. "My thoughts drift toward Stoppable-san."

Hirotaka sighed and folded his hands. "Our old friend. His oldest son should be the age we were when I was an exchange student."

"Even so. Alonzo-kun is sixteen."

"You keep track."

"Of course. Elroy-kun is thirteen. And Kimberly-chan is nine."

"You have memorized their ages."

Yori smiled pertly. "My Ron-san keeps me informed."

Hirotaka chuckled, and then turned serious. "Do you keep him informed of how sorely we miss his company? Have his children been informed of the glory of his heritage? He is _Yamauchi bun'ya_. The Chosen of Yamanouchi. Will their mother permit them to hear of the honor heaped upon his name?"

Yori frowned. "That's unkind, Hirotaka-san. And unnecessary. We're each allotted our portion. I don't resent his choice for a wife."

Hirotaka nodded respectfully. "I accept your rebuke, my partner. My conduct was unworthy." He inclined his head slightly toward her.

The dials on both their wristbands glowed. Yori touched hers with a fingertip and held up her arm so she could see the screen. "You may speak, Noelle-san," she said, thinking it was their mission coordinator.

Instead another face appeared. "My Kansumi-san…my Abé-san."

"Sensei?" Yori was alarmed. She had never seen her Sensei so grave. It was ominous.

"Is your mission concluded?"

"Yes, Sensei. We're returning shortly."

"Come with all haste. An urgent matter has arisen."

Yori nodded. "We'll come at once, Sensei."

Hirotaka had already retrieved a couple takeout containers from the service counter, gathered up their leftovers, and put them in his backpack. Just outside the eatery was his motorcycle. They both donned their helmets and mounted the vehicle. Hirotaka gunned the engine to life and they sped out into the street. He maneuvered like a pro stunt driver in and out of traffic. And when they were out of the city on a deserted stretch of road, he punched a switch on the handlebar. Safety clamps secured their legs as jets under the bike fired, and they ascended to the skies.

The bubble barrier that formed around them would protect them from wind shear and detection. Still, Yori hugged hard 'round Hirotaka's waist. And he reached a hand to squeeze her hand reassuringly. As mission partners, they had patterned their lives after those of their dear friends, Kim Possible-san and Ron Stoppable-san. Neither had ever had a spouse. Yori had taken no lover, and Hirotaka had taken many. Yet their mutual bonds were of a life-and-death kind.

They landed in the courtyard of the enclosure on the peak of Mount Yamanouchi. A lone figure awaited them.

Yori was already dismounted and had removed her helmet. "What is it, Sensei?"

Sensei looked like he had aged fifty years. "There is an evil karma. It is the answer to a riddle I have pondered for many years. You must be strong, my children. Stoppable-san brings a tale of horror, for which there is no happy ending."

Sorrow etched Yori's face. "My Ron-san? What could afflict him?"

They all glanced at each other. Hirotaka voiced everyone's thought. "It is Kimberly Possible-san. It can be no other."

_**to be comtinued**_


	3. Chapter 3 a father for a hero

…_from __**FAMILY LEGACY**__ by daccu65_

"_Stoppable," Coach Barkin greeted the boy. "Come in, close the door and sit down."_

_Lon did as he was told, studying his football coach. Steve Barkin was either in his late fifties or early sixties, but was clearly on everyone's 'do not mess with' list._

"_I'm not going to talk to you about your performance or you motivation," the older coach informed the boy. "Both are excellent. If you keep improving, you'll challenge your father's single year records next year."_

"_I have a hard time believing that dad was that good," Lon confessed. "I mean, he lives such a boring life. He's a government consultant of some sort and he runs a restaurant."_

"_That's what he wants you to believe," Coach Barkin countered. "Young man, your parents have chosen to keep some secrets from you. As much as I'd like to respect their wishes, the fact is that your father developed some very powerful enemies when he was your age. I want you to know the truth, in case one of his enemies comes looking for you, here at the school. Besides, it's about time he had some of the credit he deserves." The coach leaned back and gave the boy a measured look. "So tell me, Stoppable, is there anything…out of the ordinary…that you've noticed about your father?"_

"_Well, coach," Lon mused. "I've noticed that dad's really close to the Possible Family, all four of them. I don't think that a week goes by without a visit from Jim, Tim, or their parents. Not only that but dad and Mr. Mankey dress up as a unicorn every Halloween and help out at the medical center's fund raiser."_

"_You realize, of course, that Jim and Tim Possible had an older sister?" Barkin prompted._

"_Yes, coach. I think her name was Kim and she was the same age as my parents. She was a teenage hero and vanished after graduating from Middleton High. We celebrate Hero's Day in her honor."_

"_Almost correct," the coach smiled at the boy. "Son, your father won't mention this, but Hero's day isn't celebrated in Kim Possible's honor, it's celebrated in Team Possible's honor. Team Possible consisted of Kim Possible and your father."_

"_Dad was a teenage hero?" Lon gasped._

"_Not for very long," Coach Barkin explained. "When Team Possible started going up against the big villains, your father followed Kim. He was more a sidekick than anything else but he refused to let her go alone. Your father kept getting more and more capable as time went by, becoming her invaluable assistant by the time they graduated. Hero's Day is celebrated on the anniversary that the two of them derailed Dr. Drakken's most violent attempt to take over the world; the night of their junior prom."_

"_Dad was involved with that?" Lon asked._

"_Not only involved," Steve Barkin assured him. "He was instrumental. He stepped up in another way that night, as well. Kim Possible and your father had been inseparable friends since they had been four years old. On that night, Ron Stoppable became her boyfriend."_

"_You're saying that my father dated Kim Possible?" Lon gawked. "I can't believe it."_

"_Believe it, son," the coach smiled. "I've seen plenty of teen couples get together. Those two were clearly on their way to the altar. That's why your father doesn't talk much about her at home. He's not about to make his wife feel that he's comparing the two of them."_

"_So dad and the Possibles?" Lon asked._

"_The Possible family was ready to welcome your father into their family. Jim and Tim looked at him as a big brother and James and Anne considered him a son." The big man chuckled. "There was an impressive betting pool for when he was going to propose. My bet was June 28th, between their sophomore and junior years of college."_

"_But she vanished after graduation." Lon's words were more a statement than a question._

"_From appearances, it looks like she went swimming up at Lake Middleton one day that summer, drowned and vanished." Steve Barkin told his listener. "Personally, I don't believe it. She was too strong of a swimmer and the lake isn't that big. If she had drowned, the authorities would have found her body when they dragged the lake. No, I think that one of her enemies caught up to her, but that's just my opinion."_

"_So how did mom and dad get together?" Lon asked._

"_Your mother had been fond of your father since they were sophomores. She hid it well, but not well enough that a vice-principal, who had over ten years dealing with teenagers, couldn't spot it. Back then, your father really wasn't into the dating thing and almost everybody assumed that he and Possible were an item, so your mother didn't really make her feelings known. After Possible vanished, she was there for your father."_

"_She was there as a friend," Barkin added, upon seeing the boy's odd expression. "It wasn't like she moved on him the moment Possible was out of the picture. That friendship turned into something more, just like it had between Possible and your father. The fact that you're sitting here is a testament to how far that friendship evolved."_

"_Dad's consultant missions?" The boy prompted._

"_Are missions similar to those he took on with Possible," Coach Barkin confirmed. "Most of them involve retrieving stolen items or rescuing people. Occasionally, they turn violent. Son, your father doesn't talk much about it but there aren't too many people who can stand up against him in a fight. This is another legacy of his time with Possible."_

"_Dad's a hero?" Lon Stoppable had a hard time coming to grips with the concept._

"_He's been a hero for a long time, young man. Time has taught him to keep a low profile about it but never forget the lesson you've learned today. Looks can be deceiving."_

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**A Barrier That Restrains**_

_**chpt 3**_

Lon and Ron took a shuttle ride over the Pacific Ocean, piloted by a ninja. "We will arrive shortly, _Hachisu Kyōshi_."

"Thank you, Keichi-san," said Ron. "Just the regular name, please."

"Yes, Stoppable-sama."

"Dad?" asked Lon. "What is this? They're calling you 'Stoppable-sama'. Not 'Stoppable-san'. And what's this _'Hachisu Kyōshi'_?"

"It's part of my hidden history, Lonnie. It's the life I left behind when I married your mother."

"The life Coach Barkin told me about. You and Kim Possible."

Ron sighed. "It's a big story. Where do I start? Kim and I had a mission our sophomore year. We went to Cambodia to help an explorer recover some statue from some lost temple…well, **Kim** went. I went along as the distraction in case we met any bad guys. Kim had the moves for beating the villains. I needed rescuing. Even from bugs and monkeys. This explorer Monty Fiske…"

"Dad! You knew Monty Fiske, too? We studied him in grade school science!"

"I remember. There's a lot more to the story. Fiske was collecting statues to give himself magic powers. I got exposed to the same statues. They shot out rays or something."

"So now you have…magical powers?"

"Yeah. Some kinda telekinesis about covers it. Plus Kung-Fu abilities."

"I read Dr. Fiske got lost on one of his expeditions."

"You don't want to know what really happened to him."

"Was it as bad as Kim Possible?"

"No. Oh, what the heck…he got turned into a stone statue when he awoke a little monkey demon named Yono. He tried to turn your Aunt Hana into a villain."

Lon flinched. "Like the Greek myth. Medusa."

"She's the one with the snake hair? So ugly one look would turn you to stone?"

"Yeah."

Ron laughed. "I'm not so good with the legend stuff. I'm not sure who in our family is."

"Roy knows this guy at the Robot Rumble. Larry Rivederci."

"Yeah. That's Kim's cousin. I used to know him from Netherworld Battle Strategy."

"Mr. Rivederci is into that stuff. Myth and legend."

"Lonnie? How did Roy get into Robot Rumbling?"

"Dunno. He's more like your geek side. Gaming and stuff. Like you and Mr. Renton. I'm more like your sports side."

"And your sister is more like my culinary side."

"Yeah."

Father and son reveled in the simple mundane conversation. For a moment, it kept at bay the purpose of the trip. Ron hoped against hope that the wise old Sensei could pull this sitch out of the fire. Who else could he go to? The Possibles thought their daughter and sister was at peace somewhere in the world. Wade Load was a husband and father. As the years went by, he had grown increasingly more reclusive.

The ninja pilot spoke again. "We approach our landing, Stoppable-sama."

"Thanks, Keichi-san. Could you let us off at the foot of the mountain?"

The pilot cocked his head quizzically. "Yes, Stoppable-sama."

They found themselves curbside of a deserted two lane road and a steep hill. Ron grasped Lon's arm. "Follow me, Lonnie."

The narrative resumed. "Mr. Barkin announced a student exchange program in my junior year. A kid named Hirotaka Abé came to Middleton from Yamanouchi, Japan. He came in riding a Nihonda Raptor. Barkin announced I would be the one going to Japan."

They proceeded up the mountain trail.

"I wanted to take this route, Lonnie. I want you to see it the way I saw it. When I came to Japan on the student exchange program, I met this girl at the Tokyo Airport. Yori Kansumi. God, she was beautiful. We went up this trail; the trail we're on now."

They reached the top of the rise. There was a swift mountain stream and a rushing waterfall. Lon followed his father along the stream bank and under the curtain of the falls. There was a tunnel…or cave, or something. It was like all the swashbuckling and adventure stories Lon had known and loved since childhood.

Lon gasped at the sight under the moonlight; a single lonely plateau atop a mountain peak amid a titanic bottomless chasm. Taller snowcapped peaks lined the horizon. A frail rope bridge crossed the dark void. On the plateau was a walled fortress dominated by a great palace and tall pagoda. He had lost count of the Kung-Fu movies and games he had seen with the ancient mountain citadel. The actual thing utterly dwarfed description.

"This is Yamanouchi, Lonnie. It's a secret fortress academy to teach ninjas. It was carved out of the mountain with a magic sword…the Lotus Blade. The _Hachisu no ha_."

"That katana you made appear."

"Yeah. That katana."

Lon was silent for a long moment. "Dad? Would you have killed Mom? For trying to kill Kim Possible?"

And Ron was silent for a longer moment. "Heck of a question, Lonnie."

"It's just…for a minute, last night, you looked like ready to…to…" Lon stuttered and began to weep.

Ron sighed and lay an arm around his son's shoulders. "That's okay, son. You don't have to say it. My Sensei used to tell me the Lotus Blade would choose it's own bearer. And only the pure in heart could wield it. Could I carry out a death sentence on the mother of my kids for trying to murder my high school girlfriend?" There was a longer sigh. "Hell's bells, Lonnie. This is already one messed-up sitch. I'm not gonna complicate it."

_**to be continued**_


	4. Chapter 4  it's been longer than that

_**chpt. 4**_

_**it's been longer than that**_

Sensei, Yoriko, Hirotaka, and Hana all waited on the other end of the rope bridge.

Ron started across the swaying bridge. His feet moved with a will of their own. Lon followed a bit more slowly, staring into the inky depths of the chasm.

Ron took Yori up in his arms and spun her about, laughing and kissing both her cheeks.

"My Ron-san!" she yelped, involuntarily giggling. "Please! A little dignity! You're making me dizzy!"

He set her down and they gazed ardently at each other. A lifetime of love and a world of regret passed unspoken between them. "Been a long time, Yori. Ain't seen you since my wedding. God, you look great!"

Yori smiled sadly and swallowed. _Oh, my Ron-san...my dearest...what might have been. _Once upon a time, it seemed that Ron-san's great choice was between Kimberly-san and herself. But Tara-san had stolen in like a thief, without warning and unlooked-for...and had stolen him from them both.

Lon was speechless at the sight of Yoriko Kansumi. He temporarily forgot the name and existence of Lorrie Mankey back in Middleton. His lovely Aunt Hana next to Kansumi-san was like a bare light bulb next to a diamond chandelier; or a lit matchstick next to a gilt candelabra.

Hana smiled brightly and opened her arms wide. "Come here, you two!"

Ron snatched up his sister even more enthusiastically than he had Yori, and smushed her fervently. "Oh, sis! It's been forever! Jeez, but I miss you!"

Hana's arms were pinned to her sides. "*Ung*! Big brother! Oh, my ribs!"

Ron smiled wistfully and continued to hug her affectionately. She was a head shorter than even Yoriko, and he thought her still adorable. Her feet dangled, and she tolerated it. "Swear to God, Hana! Some days, I wish we were still kids watching the Flippy videos."

Yori stared at Lon with a sense of pensiveness. Here was Alonzo Titus Stoppable; Ron-san's firstborn. He had his father's height, and his Grandfather Stoppable browner hair, fuller face, and broader build.

Hana and Lon's greeting was not as boisterous. It consisted of a simple hug.

"Good to see you, Aunt Han," he said simply.

"Lon, you were shorter than me just last year," said Hana. "Or has it been longer than that?"

Lon only shrugged. It had indeed been longer than that, but he said nothing.

Ron and Hirotaka clasped forearms and clapped each others' shoulders in a manly embrace.

Sensei shook Ron's hand heartily and smiled broadly. "Young scamp! Your Sensei is too old for such tomfoolery! Let a simple handshake suffice."

Lon was more restrained than his father. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Yoriko, Hirotaka, and Sensei bowed graciously at the son of Stoppable-san. So he tried some rudimentary phrases. "Kon'nichiwa…er, Ohayo gozaimasu."

Yori beamed and returned the greeting "Ohayo, Alonzo-kun." She was perfectly at ease with the casual form.

Ron blushed. "Oh, yeah. Me 'n' manners. American style rudeness. Yori, Sensei, Hirotaka, this little guy is my oldest, Lon. Lon, this is Yori, Sensei, and Hirotaka.

Lon had at first been captivated by Yori's radiant beauty. Her almond eyes mesmerized him, and her straight jet black hair had a satin sheen.

_She's Dad's age? She looks like a high school senior!_

But it was the voice that was as soothing as a light breeze rustling leaves melted his reserve.

He found himself chatting with her as though they were the best of friends. "Yeah, Yori-san, I took Japanese last term. My girlfriend Lorrie speaks better than I do…well, not really my girlfriend…"

And Yori was as attentive as Tara might have been.

Sensei cut short the informal time. "Let us gather, my children." He led the group, not to one of the large stone structures from antiquity, but a small homey wooden building with an airy porch. He slid open a shoji paneled door. It was a watshitsu styled room with tatami rice mats on the floor. Lon noticed the simplicity of the style. There was a traditional flat hearth near the center of the room. A pair of globe lanterns gave a soft gentle light. Lon couldn't tell if they were flame or electrical. They all sat on the floor in a circle.

Sensei spoke gravely, his deep baritone voice ominous. "My daughter Kansumi-san…my daughter Stoppable-san…my son Abé-san…and my son Stoppable-san…we gathered here are the Elders of Yamanouchi. We are bound by love and oath. And so what is said here is spoken by one mouth and heard by one ear. Do you understand?"

They nodded. The secret about to be divulged would be held in as strict a confidence as the secret of the Yamanouchi school itself.

The façade of self-control the Stoppable men had maintained on their ride from Middleton to Yamanouchi began to fall to pieces. Lon looked more and more like a refugee of a war zone. Ron looked worse. He stared haggardly, like a concentration camp survivor, who had witnessed unimaginable horrors and unspeakable abominations.

And Ron dropped his bombshell, speaking in a low murmur that could nevertheless be heard as though he stood only an inch from each person. "My wife buried Kim alive…the summer after we graduated high school…only Kim isn't dead…she's some kinda monster. She spent the last twenty years in the old cistern in the back yard of the house where my wife grew up…were we live now. She…I mean Kim…she dug herself out and tried to kill us all."

Sensei bowed his head in profound sorrow.

Yori, Hana, and Hirotaka stared aghast.

Ron 's appalling story continued to unfold. His voice rose in alarming pitch. "I had to send for the Lotus Blade. I had to chop her to pieces!"

Hana recoiled. She covered her mouth with fisted hands and tried to suppress a scream. She sprang up and ran away in terror.

Lon huddled next to his father and sobbed in torment.

"Let us take a moment, " Sensei said. "We will compose ourselves."

Hirotaka went to Hana as she huddled outside. "Hana-san?" he said gently.

She shivered as though in shellshock. "Hirotaka-sama…please pardon my dishonorable behavior."

He knelt and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Little Hana-san," he said reassuringly, "Don't be afraid. She is not here."

As Hana regained her composure, her demeanor changed abruptly. "Hirotaka-sama," she said coldly, "Subete no keii to, "_With all due respect,_ "Watashi wa anata ga sono namae o watashi ni adoresu shitei o shiyō kibō sa renai." _I would prefer you not use that name when addressing me._ "Watashi ni denwa' shite kudasai. 'Hanako-san'." _Please call me 'Hanako-san'._

Hirotaka's face fell. "Hai, Hanako-san. Anata ga iu yō ni kore wa shinakereba naranai." _It shall be as you say._

Yoriko laid a gentle hand on Lon's forearm. "Come with me, my Alonzo-kun." and she took him away to another room. It was a mother's tender embrace she lavished on him.

Lon wept like a baby in Yori's arms. "My mom! She's a murderer! She killed Kim Possible! And Kim Possible tried to kill me!" His voice grew more frantic and his self-reproach came spilling forth. "It's my fault! I heard a noise in the backyard…under the big cement slab! I let her loose!"

Yori patted his back. "No, my Alonzo-kun. You mustn't take this burden on yourself."

Ron wailed like a berserker in the fatherly embrace of his Sensei.

Animals will react in the presence of one of their own who have died. Denied the eloquence of a spoken language, they will linger and make sad noises. But for Ron, there was no body to grieve before. His bereavement at the death of his Beloved came back…as she did…in a hideous and dreadful manifestation.

_**to be continued**_


	5. Chapter 5 a watchman on the wall

Thanks for the reviews, Whitem, Muzzlehatch, Mr. Wizard, screaming phoenix, CajunBear73, Sentinel103, acosta perez jose ramiro, Joe Stoppinghem, Earl Allison,

Thank you for the faves, muzzlehatch and Wolvenstrom. Thank you for the alert, zamzowow. Thank you for both, Penname S058 and Cabrera234.

Muzzlehatch: regarding the dialogue; thank you; author's notes pending.

Sentinel: working out demons...I guess you could say that. Bad news regarding little Hana-san...as you will see.

We arrive to the pivotal chpt.

Betty and Brian Reger belong to daccu65

Content warning: profanity and references to dismemberment.

I have set watchmen upon your walls, O Jerusalem; they shall never hold their peace day or night. They shall remind Yahweh… (Isaiah 62:6)

For the mystery of lawlessness is already active; only there is one who restrains it for now… (2 Thessalonians 2:7)

_**chpt 5**_

_**a watchman upon the wall**_

Hana and Hirotaka waited in the walled enclosure of the Yamanouchi courtyard. Both sat in the kneeling position, like the samurai retainers in attendance to o a daimyo, a feudal lord of the Emperor. Neither displayed any sign of impatience. It was part of the samurai ethic; to eat, sleep, march, kill, die…by one's own hand if so ordered…or simply wait; at the lord's whim.

Hanako had her own thoughts. She would exercise her prerogative as the Han after her brother departed. She would give Sensei an earful; first for calling her 'Stoppable-san' instead of 'Noriyuma-san' earlier; and second, for allowing this sorry circumstance to come about.

She despised herself for her momentary display of fear at hearing the fate of Kim Possible. She could barely remember her brother's girlfriend. But she had grown up hearing about the legendary heroine.

There was much to admire about Possible-san and her family. Her martial arts discipline was unbelievable; almost farfetched. Her parents' and brothers'' academic accomplishments were likewise significant. And before she came to Yamanouchi herself, she loved and admired them.

But when Hanako had come of age and learned of her heritage as a descendent of Noriyuma Toshimiru, and a proprietor of the position and power of the Han, even as her brother was a proprietor of the position of _Hachisu Kyōshi_, the Lotus Master, she looked at her old acquaintances in a new light. As she learned the precepts of the bushido, the samurai code of honor,Hana appreciated and respected how zealously her brother and his comrade embodied the virtues of courage, benevolence, and loyalty.

But as she saw Ron's habitual attitude toward rectitude, honesty, wisdom and honor, she began to have strong reservations. She became increasingly narrow in her outlook. That he changed after his high school graduation and Kim's disappearance did not matter.

Even now they were all indulging in this interruption of the session to compose themselves. She had recovered from her momentary loss of control. She was composed. She was ready to resume. They were simply waiting on her brother and nephew.

_Loss of control; _A part of her was still ashamed. It was really loss of face. And she wondered; in the old days, would a quick and bland apology from her and a quick and empty reassurance from daimyo-figure like Hirotaka Abé-sama been enough to atone for the shameful breach of conduct. It was a uncomfortable indication and warning of how far things had fallen from the rigorous standard of old Nihon.

Lon Stoppable was chatting nonstop with Yoriko Kansumi. "I dressed up as a gorilla for Halloween. I was hanging out with Betty and Brian Reger. We were at the Scare For Care Fundraiser at the Tri-City Medical Center.

"I saw Lorrie Mankey. She was in this costume of somebody from an old anime show from my dad's time. I think it was May from Pokemon. She looked really great. Betty and Brian were dressed as characters from that show, too. Jessie and James from Team Rocket. They looked **really** great. Me and my old gorilla costume was kinda boring. It's just something I had around.

"Dad and Lorrie's father…Mr. Mankey…were dressed for a while in some old unicorn costume. Now that was **really** boring.

"Anyhow…here was Lorrie with some guy…I should've made some kinda noise. She turned around and jumped a foot in the air when she saw me. I was hoping to scare him, not her. Now she thinks I'm some kinda dork..."

Lon stopped, sheepish. "I'm sorry, Kansumi-san. Guess I'm boring you. You don't know any of these people."

Yori shook her head. "On the contrary, my Alonzo-kun. I'm not bored. Your father used to tell me all about his Halloweens at your age. I know all about the Scare For Care that the Doctors Possible-san began…and the old unicorn costume that your father and Mankey-san used to wear. He told me he would invite me one Halloween. I was looking forward to wearing the gorilla costume…or perhaps the unicorn costume…with Mankey-san, of course. Kimberly-san and your father were already as good as betrothed at that point. Little Hana-san had already learned to walk…" Yori sighed. "But those were busy days. The world was recovering from the Lowardian invasion. And then Kimberly-san disappeared. And the planned Halloween get-together never took place…"

She saw Lon's blank face. "Your father is a _Daimyobosatsu_…an incarnation of the god Hachiman. He is the quintessence of everything we teach and revere at Yamanouchi. His exercise of the Mystical Monkey Power thwarted an occupation of **our** world by conquerors from **another** world."

Lon was stunned. More and more of his father's story kept unfolding. Kansumi-san had not seen his father since his parents' wedding. Yet every detail of what she had heard remained as fresh after twenty years as it had when she had heard it. Why the big secrecy? Was it just what Coach Barkin had said? To keep the family safe? Or was it to placate his mother? To close the book on a chapter of his father's life she found reason to be jealous of?

Ron had long since exhausted his tears and wails. For the moment, only a dull ache remained. His head lay on Sensei's bosom. It didn't feel strange or sick or wrong to be practically sitting on an old man's lap like some toddler. It felt like the days of childhood that had never been. He could hardly recall a time of tenderness with his parents that had been lavished on him like was lavished on his sister in her youth…like Mrs. and Mr. Dr. P. lavished on their kids far past toddler age…much to their kids' embarrassment.

It was about an hour before the little company reconvened. Sensei had arranged two containers of steaming liquid, two dippers, and a stack of cups on the hearth surface. "A small refreshment has been prepared for us by Yoshinaka-san, our kitchen master. There is a seasoned rice broth and an herbal tea sweetened with honey and just a dash of saké.

"I know how stricken we all are. But I urge you all to partake of at least a little." He smiled sadly. "Our Stoppable-san has long since convinced me of the healing power of nacos. And though we have no such item in our larder at the moment, I share what we have. If we had the time, I would conduct a Tea Ceremony. It calms the soul and restores balance."

"Is this the same lunch lady you had when I was here?" asked Ron, surprised.

"Yoshinaka-san was here when I was Alonzo-kun's age," said Yori.

"Yes, My children. The very same. She will outlive me," said Sensei, chuckling slightly.

Each slowly supped from the contents of the their cup. Ron himself had poured a cup of the spiked tea for his son. This was not the time to worry about legal drinking age. The tea would not inebriate-only take the edge off the sense of dreadfulness.

And when a decent interval had passed, Sensei spoke again.

His speech were slow and his voice was calm. "This is a horrifying event. Words utterly fail to express its dreadfulness. It stuns the mind and oppresses the heart. Furthermore, there is a power at work here I cannot fathom. When Kimberly Possible-san was reported missing, I tried to find her, with such poor gifts as I have at my disposable. But I could not perceive her whereabouts…not then and not for all the years of her imprisonment.

"I have looked into my heart and all the teachings I know. I have meditated deeply on this state of affairs. Stoppable-san's account confirms my impressions. Possible-san has been restrained these twenty years by her belief that she was buried for just a short time. Doubtless she assumed she would be looked for. And so she was. The world was combed by all the heroes.

"But she did not know what she had become. Her awareness of the passage of time has somehow been distorted. In all likelihood, a glimpse of her own face in some mirror drove her insane. Who can blame her? Stoppable-san was forced to defend his family. Who can blame him? But her disillusionment is complete. She has given herself to vengeance.

"It is what the Italians called 'vendetta'. When a samurai's honor was impugned, they demanded the right to _Fukushū…_Revenge. She has suffered loss of freedom, marriage, children, and life. Ironically, she has even suffered, both symbolically and literally, loss of beauty and face."

"I hate irony, Sensei," interjected Ron bitterly

"I know, my son. But in the old days, entire families and clans died over such matters. All whom you know and love are at risk. We cannot hope that she will remain imprisoned even within the reinforced cistern. She is too determined and resourceful a combatant. Her next escape is inevitable."

Ron knew this was coming. But it was still like the stroke of a blade across his neck. And it recalled to him the killing strokes he had delivered to his Beloved as he was forced to decapitate her. He gritted his teeth and groaned. "What should I do?" he asked. "Is there any hope for her, Sensei?"

"We do not know what altered her. For the moment, restoring her is out of the question. We must turn then to the matter of restraining her." Sensei gazed hard at Ron. "Assuming you would survive and she would not escape in a second encounter...would you be willing to reopen the cistern, cut her body asunder again, and secure the body parts separately by suspending them from chains?"

Everyone stared appalled at both Sensei's suggestion.

Ron's face darkened. He spat in disgust. "**Fuk** you, Sensei!" he blurted. **Fuk** you to **Hell**!"

And everyone gaped anew at Ron's outburst.

Ron hid his face in his hands and suppressed a sob. "Sorry, Sensei. Sorry, everybody."

Sensei sighed and laid a comforting hand on Ron's arm. "Your Sensei begs your forgiveness, my son. I know. It cannot be done."

"Then…what should I do?"

"I will teach you how to apply your mystical powers to securing her confinement."

"My Mystical Monkey Powers?"

"Yes. The Kojiki, the Shinto sacred text, tells of the first Divine Couple, Izanagi and his wife, Izanami. She died and went to Yomi, the underworld. He traveled there himself and found her; a rotting corpse. He fled in horror. In anger, she pursued him with a thousand demons. He blocked the entrance with a great boulder…a _Chibiki-no-Iwa_."

Ron snorted. "This Shinto Bible didn't give any directions on how to change her back, I guess."

"No. Only that a barrier was erected. You will lay an intangible barrier on the cistern. You must then remain in its proximity. And so must your progeny-for as long as Possible-san remains alive."

"Progeny?"

"Your descendants. Your son is strong with the _Mahō no saru no nōryoku_…the Mystical Monkey Power. Without doubt your other children are similarly gifted."

Lon felt it hard to breathe. He turned pale and pressed a hand to his chest. "Me? **I **got this…power…too?"

Sensei nodded. "Yes. You too have the Mystical Monkey Power. I sense it, dormant, within you. As your father did, you too must learn how to wield it.

"My son…my Alonzo-kun…it is a blessing in disguise you and your brother heard the noise in the cistern. If she had learned of her Undeath while still buried, Possible-san would have escaped at a time of her choosing. This apparent coincidence caught us all by surprise…including her. We have discovered the fire before it becomes a conflagration. We cannot save what is already burned, but we can contain the flame.

"Your life has been profoundly altered by this event. The karma upon your family is strong. Like your Joseph, the son of Jacob whose brothers sold him into slavery…like David, the son of Jesse who was called upon to face the enemy Goliath…an unpleasant reality has been thrust upon your father and his household. Like Esther, niece of Mordecai, who was chosen bride by the king of Persia, you will be called on to take great risk. And if you do not rise to the occasion, help must come from another quarter."

Lon felt uncomfortable under the spotlight. "I've got a girlfriend, Sensei. At least someone I like."

"So much the better. A fulfilling life can still be yours. Marriage, family, career. I must be brutally honest, my son. The same Power you inherited will also be inherited by your children."

"So for this to work, someone always has to stay around. Like, living on the property. My kids. Or my brother's or sister's kids."

Sensei nodded. "Even so. Proximity is vital. As your father will tell you, the ability is at first intermittent. Before he attained the proficiency, his ability worked best when he was near both our dear departed Rufus-san and the villain Monkey Fist.

"So Rufus was my good luck charm," said Ron, with some irony. "That explains some of the badical stuff he could do."

Some," said Sensei. "Not all. That is another mystery of your karma, Stoppable-san. Your Sensei is an unworthy unenlightened man and knows little. But for the containment to succeed, someone must remain. A guardian. A sentinel. A restrainer. A watchman on the wall.

"Somebody has to man the outpost," said Lon. "So the rest are safe. And raise the alarm in case something happens. Someone maybe expendable."

"Not expendable, my Alonzo-kun, but willing to be expended," responded Sensei.

"And it's a family thing…like the Swiss Guard."

"Except they were mercenaries. But still they took pride in their work. Are you willing to take pride in the thankless task, my young warrior?"

Lon did not answer. He only stared at his cup of tea.

Sensei continued. "This much I can ascertain regarding Possible-san. It is a dark manifestation of the Mahō no saru no nōryoku. Her flesh is held together. Her body had decayed. Her existence continues in a sort of Undeath. A _Fu seikatsu_…an Unlife."

"How does this happen, Sensei?" asked Ron. "This barrier thing?"

You already know how to call upon the Mystical Monkey Power. You and your son will stand atop the cistern. You will summon the _Hachisu no ha_…the Lotus Blade. You will both join hands and touch the cistern with the blade. The blue glow…you are familiar with it…will cover the cistern."

Ron frowned. "That's it? That's all there is? That sounds like the easy part. And that's supposed to take care of things."

Lon raised a tentative hand. "Sensei-sama…uh…if I may ask…?"

Sensei nodded. "Please proceed, Alonzo-kun."

"Can you tell us more?"

Sensei thought a moment. "The presence of the Blade approximates the presence of the Four Jade Monkey artifacts that conferred the _Mahō no saru no nōryoku _on your father. They were uncovered by Monkey Fist, but have since been broken. As to the influence: it is…hard to explain. A certain effect occurred and reformed her body. A certain effect takes place when the Lotus Blade changes form and shape. The same effect will happen within the place she is imprisoned. Any damage she wreaks on the wall of the cistern will immediately be repaired.

"The virulent infection will be contained. Like quarantining an incurable illness."

"Like hazardous waste in a landfill," said Ron bitterly. "It stays toxic for a bazillion years."

Sensei nodded. "Unless the Compassionate Lord Buddha himself should appear with divine wisdom, this is the only recourse, my Stoppable-san."

It was done. The tale of the dilemma had been related, and, after a fashion, resolved. All that remained was for them to go their separate ways.

Sensei took a cup and filled it with tea. "This is not the Tea Ceremony. Neither is it the cup of the Pesach nor the Eucharist. Still, I would share this cup with my children, to unite our hearts for this trial, that our courage be sustained and not fail in the years ahead. If Possible-san escapes, it is those of us who are living who will bear the burden of containing her. May Heaven not permit it. May she somehow find her peace."

He sipped the from the cup and passed it to Yoriko, who passed it to Lon, and so on, to Ron, Hana, Hirotaka, and back to Sensei.

_**to be continued**_


	6. Chapter 6 renewed resolve & journey home

It's dangerous to let Randy near his keyboard of what he thought was a finished chpt. More keeps coming.

I said there would be no uplifting moments in this story. I don't know if the glimpse of Kim and Hana together or my musings on Lon's blossoming chivalry qualify as uplifting. I'll let y'all decide.

I finished this chpt while first watching the miniseries Shogun then listening to Disney's Fantasia. All this samurai imagery and glorious music swirling in my head.

BTW...Google Don Quixote, Parsifal, Dulcinea, and Kundry, and you will have obtained a crash course in chivalry.

_**chpt. 6**_

_**renewed resolve & journey home**_

The convening of the Elders of Yamanouchi had concluded.

And like the conclusion of an official session, participants began milling about informally.

Hana embraced her brother. "I'm sorry I freaked on you, big brother."

Ron returned the embrace. "That's okay, Han. Hey, this whole sitch has made a basket case outa me."

Life had passed so quickly. He called her his _"Little Intruder"_...or _"Widdle Intwuder" _when she was an infant. He had taught her to clap her hands, sing, turn the pages of a book, and dance to the Flippy videos. She had taken her first step for him…and began immediately walking on the ceiling.

It had freaked Kim. "_The ceiling, Ron! I mean…__**the ceiling**__!"_

In many ways, he thought of Hana as his firstborn…almost like _their_ firstborn, his and Kim's. They had all gone on missions and battled villains together. Hana had squealed with delight at her first parachute drop, strapped to Ron's chest. Together they had parented her in those precious few months before Kim's disappearance as much as the actual adoptive parents, Rachel and Abel Stoppable. He had looked upon it as practice for their own children. The family of Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Stoppable.

Kim was even teaching Hana the Puppy Dog Pout. _"Hana…do this." _And they would both gaze at him with the big sad eyes and the little quivering lip. And together they would burst into laughter when he covered his head with his arms. _"Aw! Mannn! __**Both**__ of you?"_

It had broken his heart at Kim's memorial service. Kim had been missing for weeks before being declared dead. Hana was sitting on Ron's lap. She loved being with "Brother" but she missed "K.P."…or, as she said it, _"Kaypee"_. She had heard Kim's name repeated over and over in the eulogy. She had stood up on his lap, peered over his shoulder, gazed all around, and looked up at him with those big inquiring eyes. _"Brother…Kaypee?"_

And he had to wipe away his tears and try to keep from bursting into sobs. _"K.P.'s in heaven, Hana."_

Hana's perplexity only increased. _"Heben?"_

And he had sighed like his heart was breaking. _"Yeah, Hana. Heben."_

When Tara began dating Ron, she had tried to bond with Hana. But Tara had not Kim's natural babysitting gifts nor acquired babysitting skills. And Tara had a way…a quiet insistent way…of superseding…of gradually replacing whatever might be competition for Ron's affections.

Hana now gazed wistfully up at her brother. "It's funny. I've been all over the world…and the only place I heart that word 'sitch' is back home. I know I've hardly been around for the kids' growing up I haven't seen your little girl since she was a toddler."

Ron shook his head. "Hey. No big. It's all good. You're doin' Sensei level stuff. The kids look forward to their ridiculously large money gifts from their rich geezer Aunt Han every holiday. Mom and Dad are excited you call every week. Y'know, you're very Jewish like that."

They both laughed at this levity.

"But seriously, Ron…I'll try to be around more. And if you ever feel the need to get away…you know, with the family…I'll be more than willing to housesit and keep watch on…this is so awful…things. Maybe it would help."

"Thanks, little sister. But I don't think I'll be takin' any long vacations soon. That won't fix the mess between me an' Tara. My work is kinda cut out for me. And don't stress about how to refer to Kim. You bein' here tonight shows me where your heart is. That helps more than I can ever tell you. Thank you, Han…again."

And Hana embraced her nephew. "Feeling better, kid?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Aunt Han."

"I'll come to Middleton, soon. I have to meet this girlfriend of yours."

Conversation hung rather awkwardly between Hana and Lon. They simply had never been as close as Hana and Ron had been.

They began to gather outside and pull on the shoes they had taken off earlier.

Sensei took Ron aside. "You are still and again the _Saishū-tekina saru no Kyōshi_; the Ultimate Monkey Master. The Four Jade Monkeys are gone. Monkey Fist's attempts to find another source of the _Mahō no Saru no Nōryoku_ proved futile. His endeavor to control your sister and the power of the Han awakened the Yono and resulted in his death. Rufus-san is gone. You and your children are the last repository of the mystical power. If the world is to be kept safe from Possible-san, we must beseech the blessing of HaShem upon your family line."

Sensei's use of the Orthodox term for the Name of G-d did not surprise Ron. His sister Hana, always more the scholar than her brother, had once noted that The old teacher was not a dogmatic Shinto; that he was closer to Theism; and she did not sound favorable in her estimation.

Sensei reached up and grasped both Ron's shoulders in a fraternal gesture. "I will attack my library with renewed vigor, my Stoppable-san. I will consult and pore over every sacred and mystical text I can find. And I will confer with wiser men and women than I. Perhaps I may find a way to restore her-or release her"

It warmed Ron's heart. He loved the old man as he loved his own father and his rabbi, Immanuel Katz. "You really think so, Sensei?"

"Heaven only knows, my son. Heaven only knows."

The ninja pilot who had earlier shuttled Lon and Ron across the western United States and the Pacific Ocean from Middleton was present to shuttle them back. He bowed himself to the ground at the sight of all the Sama; the Elders, and the Hachisu Kyōshi and his son.

Yoriko whispered something to Hirotaka, and Hirotaka addressed the pilot. "We will shuttle them back, Keichi-san."

The pilot bowed again. "Hai, Abé-sama."

Yori beamed at Ron and his son. "You have walked enough. This time it will be our honor to give you a ride, my Ron-san."

Lon and Hirotaka walked together to the shuttle. And Hirotaka clapped a hearty hand on Lon's back. "Come, my Alonzo-san! I will teach you what to do and say to secure the affections of this fortunate young lady you set your heart on. She will be your number one girlfriend by next weekend."

Yori and Ron walled together. Yori giggled quietly. "Alas for the women of Middleton, my Ron-san. They will find a Casablanca among them."

Ron looked confused. "Casablanca?"

Yori appeared nonplused. "Er…perhaps I've said the wrong word. Who is the Frenchman who seduced many women."

Ron laughed. "Casanova."

Yori blushed and giggled again. "Oh, dear. Is this American, or Nipponese style buffoonery?"

Ron took her hand and squeezed it. "On you, it's called appealing, Yori."

She covered her lips with her hand and cast her eyes down in a most endearing manner. "Ron-san! You're more shameless than Hirotaka-san. But thank you." She tried to make it sound like a rebuke and failed.

Ron fell silent. "Kim once called me Casa-no-duh." His mouth contorted with sorrow and his eyes welled with tears. "God, Yori, how do I deal with this? I still love her. I still miss her. All I wanna do is throw myself off this mountain…or crawl inside the cistern with her."

Yori spoke with quiet insistence. "You must let your thoughts dwell upon your children, my Ron-san. And your grandchildren yet to come. They're your hope. And you're their bulwark. Your beloved was like a sister to me. She once told me she couldn't save the world without you. In her name you must continue… even if she is the one you must save the world from."

As they approached the shuttlecraft, Ron sighed. "Yori…I…" He hesitated. "I'd rather say farewell here. How can I say it…seeing you reminds me what I missed. It's taking all I got to go home now. The longer I'm with you, the harder it is to remember I'm somebody's husband."

Yori nodded and sadly blinked. "You are wise, Hachisu Kyōshi."

Lon looked crestfallen that she would not accompany them on the trip back. "Kansumi-san?" he blurted. "Could I…could I…" He cleared his throat and tried to sound formal. "May I have the honor of corresponding with you?" He glanced nervously back and forth. "…And Abé-san?" he hastily added.

Both Yori and Hirotaka grinned. And both nodded yes.

Yori smiled. "I should be honored to hear from you, my Alonzo-san." She kissed each on his cheek. "Farewell, my Ron-san. Farewell, my Lon-san."

Lon blushed furiously. What was more, everyone turned their head to stare at Yori and him. The significance of her deed was not lost on them. She had bestowed on the son and recognized successor of the Hachisu Kyōshiboth an adult's honorific and a term of affection not unlike that of the father's.

The men all seated themselves in the sleek craft. It had the seating capacity of a minivan. Ron nodded admiringly. "Nice little buggy, Hiro. I've hopped a lotta rides in my time. This one looks sweet."

"Ah," bragged Hirotaka, "If only you were traveling on a Nihonda with a Number One Girlfriend. **That** would be a sweet ride!"

Ron laughed. "Hiro…you sound like a commercial!"

Yori stepped back as the hatch closed. She waved at the passengers. Both Lon and Ron held their palms up to the windows.

The shuttlecraft's hover jets emitted a piercing whistle. The craft slowly ascended. Then it rotated to face east and slowly accelerated out of sight.

"Sayonara, my Ron-san…my Lon-san," she said quietly. "May your feet ever tread the Path."

In the craft, Lon mused aloud. "Dad...she's something else." And he realized how moonstruck he sounded. "Uh…I mean…"

Ron nodded. "I hear you, Lonnie. I'm there." He mused himself. "Take good care of her, Hiro. Don't let anyone get to her." Plainly he was thinking of Kim and the unspeakable possibility of something similar happening to his other great love.

"We are rarely apart. But I will heed your admonition, Hachisu Kyōshi."

Lon tried to sound casual. "Dad? Do you think I could attend Yamanouchi? Y'know, since I gotta be a ninja too?"

Ron almost laughed. Plainly, Yori left an unforgettable impression on his oldest son. "I supose so. Something mor to think about…Lon-san."

And both Hiro and Ron did chuckle in mirth.

And Lon's cheeks turned crimson again. "Dad!" he exclaimed in a tone of exasperation.

Ron had come to Yamanouchi broken in heart and shattered in spirit. He departed still broken in heart; but filled with new resolve. For the sake of a love and a marriage he thought was the consolation for Kim's death, he had denied his hero's legacy. The marriage was destroyed, and his hero's legacy reclaimed. He discovered himself once more. He would be a watchman on the wall.

He would nurture his family; that is, his children and grandchildren to come; for they were now assured him. It was karma. There was no choice in the matter, if he was to keep the Undead Thing from escaping its cage over the course of the generations. He derived a bizarre comfort finally knowing where his Kim was, and in a bizarre way would lavish his love and attention on her.

Lon had come to Yamanouchi in a surreal nightmare. From a night of Trick-or-Treat revelry with his Dream Girl, to watching an Abomination try and drag his mother off to Perdition while strangling him, to learning his mother's hands were stained red with lifeblood and his father was high exalted warrior…it had been a wild ride.

He departed Yamanouchi with a sense of high destiny and expectation. His mother was still a murderer. The Abomination was still buried in his yard. But he had been told he had his own gift all along. He had been told he was next in succession for membership in the same fellowship of exalted warriors. It would be his obligation to woo and marry his Dream Girl to insure the continued succession.

And the **next **time, he would look the Thing in the eye and say _"Bring it on, bitch! Show me what you got!"_

And so without realizing, Lon entered into the spirit of the original Team Possible. Like Kim, he would Save The World. And like Ron, when it came to Winning The Beautiful Girl's Affections, it was his honor to do so.

Lon also departed with a new, yet ancient passion. He didn't know its name yet. He was barely aware of it. It was akin to the ardor Christian knights had for Mary, the Blessed Mother of Christ, and the reverence Muslim warriors had for Fatima, the daughter of the Prophet.

It was Don Quixote's love for Dulcinea and Parsival's love for Kundry. It was a love so strong, so rich, so multifaceted, yet so holy, that one could love the same woman as a queen, mother, sister, wife, and daughter, yet remain pure. That passion was chivalry. Lon had found his Madonna, his queen, who bestowed her grace upon her knight. The object of his ardor was…Yori.

As they were over the Pacific, father and son fell into conversation.

"I was thinking, Lon. Your mother always wanted a gazebo in the back yard. Maybe this is the right time. With a picnic table. You and I could try out our mad carpenter skills. My kids could have a wedding party under a gazebo."

"Seems kinda frivolous. Dad. Kinda silly after all that's happened. A wedding on top of the cage is just…how do you say it? Sick and wrong?"

"I'm trying to find the silver lining in a ferociously freaky sitch, Lonnie. I know how it would feel weird. Hell…I mean, heck. Your mom and I had our wedding and reception in the back yard. Over the cistern."

Lon thought. "Kim would be totally pleased."

Ron stared at his son.

"I mean my sister."

Ron shook his head. "Oh, yeah."

Lon clasped his father's shoulder. "For her I'd do it."

Ron clasped his son's hand. "Yeah. Me too."

"Dad? Are we gonna bring Roy into the loop? And if so, when?"

"Jeez. This just gets more complicated."

Hana and Sensei waved at the departing shuttlecraft from the house porch.

But after Hirotaka, Lon, and Ron had left, while Yori was still out of hearing, Hana confronted Sensei...with a radically changed demeanor.

"My Sensei...my unworthy self begs pardon for my outburst. But I tried to alert you! My brother's exposure to the Four Jade Monkeys is a grotesque calamity. A mischance! It was not intended! I warned you of the consequences! All manner of misfortune would result!"

"Are you assured that your brother's exposure to the Jade Monkeys brought this to pass?" asked Sensei quietly.

"Are you assured it did not?" countered Hana.

Sensei sighed sadly to himself. This tragedy was compounded by Hana's intractable attitude.

The sweet bubbly child with the infectious smile, chiming laughter, and bouncy stride became the stern repressed adult with the narrow, prejudiced outlook. She had read the works of Professor Montgomery Fiske regarding the Monkey Warrior cults. She subscribed to the philosophy of the traitor Fukushima Ishido. The lore of Yamanouchi belonged to the _Ōyashima_-the Great Country of the eight islands that compromised the original realm. Furthermore, the learning of the lore and the possession of the Lotus Blade belonged to the _Nihon-jin_-a native of that same realm.

And so Hana felt in her own heart that no _Gaijin..._no Outsider...no matter how kind, selfless, courageous, or noble...could ever legitimately be considered the Chosen.

Not even her own adopted brother.

_**to be continued**_


	7. Chapter 7 I will share my heart

Oh, my brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ and the Family of Man. First order of business. Truth in advertising. Gotta warn you from the get-go. This is one of my encyclopedic preface things. It's longer than the freakin' story. Seriously...if you want to get into the chpt, bypass all this blather and go to the bold print chpt title. If you want to read all this preface lecture stuff…heh heh (evil grin)…don't say I didn't warn you.

This was a hard chpt. to write…for a couple of reasons. The first was the makeover of Hana Stoppable, Ron Stoppable's adorable adopted little sister into Noriyuma Hanako, the stern advocate of tradition. The second was the digging for info. And I mean real verifiable history; not somebody's cut-and-paste job that gets put together for a blog or to forward in the email.

Your humble fanfic writer is obsessed with background material. A couple years ago, he put together a Kim Possible Timeline over at his DeviantArt page merging Ronicus, Yamanouchi, and Zimm Possible with actual historical events. (Gad. Self publicity. Have I no shame?)

I'm on a quest to merge the K.P. series mythos of the MMP, the Han, and the monkey cults with actual mythos. It's a work in progress. My man and fellow fan-writer Mattk did an absolutely astounding job of it in his Bleeding Out fanfic. It is a Homeric epic.

But on that endeavor, I discovered the historical Japanese chauvinism toward the Outsiders. A brief history lesson:

In 552 A.D. Buddhism came to Japan. In 645, Emperor Kotoku professed Buddhism. Shinto fell into decline. A sort of double observance arose, called Riyobu Shinto.

In 1549, Francis Xavier, of the Jesuit order, came to Japan. He baptized thousands into the Catholic Church. Even some of the Daimyo, the feudal lords, professed Christianity.

There was some opposition. In 1597 General Hideyoshi had nine Catholic missionaries and seventeen Japanese converts crucified. Still, by 1600, there were half a million Christians.

In 1640, the Shōgun Tokugawa Iemitsu (the inspiration for Toranaga Yoshi in Shōgun by James Clavell) issued the "Closed Country" (_Sakoku_) edicts to stem the influence of Christianity among Daimyos and peasants. It reduced the influx of foreigners to a trickle. The existing Christians were forced into hiding. There's a good and a bad side to it, as among all things. The Europeans…the Spanish, Portuguese, and Dutch…were plundering the rest of Asia and the Native American empires, and jockeying for trade privileges through the Japanese converts. Shōgun Tokugawa adopted what he hoped would be a comprehensive solution to hold back the tide of colonization.

Shinto was revived in the 1700's, not as a reaction to Christianity, but to what was perceived as encroaching Confucianism in the Tokugawa shogunate.

Hirata Atsutane (1776-1843), a Shinto scholar and apologist, was an advocate of state Shinto as a unifying factor. He wrote this notorious passage (copied ad infinitum all over the internet; this is what I mean by cut-and-paste; most of the yahoos attaching this to their post won't even cite the original source).

The two fundamental doctrines are: that Japan is the country of the Gods, and her inhabitants are the descendants of the Gods. Between the Japanese people and the Chinese, Hindus, Russians, Dutch, Siamese, Cambodians and other nations of the world there is a difference of kind, rather than of Mikado is the true Son of Heaven, who is entitled to reign over the four seas and the ten-thousand the fact of the divine descent of the Japanese people proceeds their immeasurable superiority to the natives of other countries in courage and intelligence. They "are honest and upright of heart, and are not given to useless theorizing and falsehoods like other nations" (Cited by Robert E. Hume, The World's Living Religions, New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, rev. ed., 1959, p. 172).

Emperor Meiji reinstituted Shinto as Japan's official religion. But Buddhism was granted official recognition in 1877, and religious liberty in 1879.

Now we merge with the mythos of our fandom. In the K.P. episode Exchange, Fukushima was biased against outsiders (_Gaijin_).

This played a part in the development of Hana Stoppable's personality and outlook. Like all of us, she is human. And she is guilty of a very human flaw: prejudice. We all have our share of flaws. Lust, greed, sloth, etc.

And I found the plot bunny navigating the story toward the developments unfolding in these chpt's.

So much for the inspiration of Hana's development. Now its genuineness. Is there a matching example in real life of one who is raised in broadminded values sort of reverting to a more radicalized outlook? Yes. Many.

And this next point is important. Japanese cultural chauvinism is no better or no worse than any other cultural chauvinism or imperialism. It's not genetically part of the national character. My gal and fellow (is there a gender-neutral word for that?) K.P. fan-writer correctly points that out to me in a P.M.

Hirata Atsutane (see above) did not revive Shinto to fill the temples. He did it to counteract the pervasive foreign influences. He, and Emperor Meiji much later, wanted the technological progress without the cultural corruption.

Others did the same thing. Nicolai Lenin took the philosophy of Karl Marx and remade it in his image. Adolph Hitler embraced National Socialism and did the same. Wahabism is the flame that lights the tinder of Islamic terrorism.

There's a story from the Arabian Nights about a genie (not the Aladdin story.)

For the first thousand years of his imprisonment, the genie promised himself he would reward whoever released him. For the next thousand years, his anger and resentment grew. He vowed to himself he would kill whoever released him.

How the story ended has no bearing here. (Sorry. Don't want to make this too long…hehe.) The point is this. Fearful genies have been unleashed on the world.

Japan did inflicted horrible atrocities on the territories she occupied during WW2, in Korea, China, and the Philippines. Hitler's Holocaust. Stalin's brutal repressions. Need I go on?

And take note; all these movements that consumed so many lives were carried out by the fanatics; but who initiated them? The intelligentsia. The intellectuals

Shall I cite how often the bomb-wielding terrorists of the modern Middle Eastern radicals were those who attended school in the West?

It was either Socrates or Aristotle who said, "To thine own self be true." And so I'll acknowledge my own religion has turned out fanatics. Tomas de Torquemada, the Grand Inquisitor.

Even my man Martin Luther, whom I honor for his championing of the Christian doctrine of justification by faith, preached cruelty against Jews.

And that, my dears, is what happened to little Hana.

I have a fine head of steam worked up. I'm on a real bender. My next topic would be how any particular belief or point of view doesn't necessarily have to lead to fanaticism…but that's for another time. Y'all came to read a story.

_**chpt. 7**_

_**I will share my heart**_

At the entrance of the pagoda, Sensei gazed up at the stars.

Yoriko came slowly across the courtyard, and up the steps to join him. "Hirotaka-san has departed, Sensei. Stoppable-san and Alonzo-san are on their way home."

The old teacher continued to gaze upward. "It is well. It was good to be gathered together once again with my dearest students. As I grow older, I find myself more and more like a parent whose child are all grown. When will they again call and visit? Will we ever meet all together again before I join my ancestors?"

"Has Hanako-san also departed?"

"Yes." Sensei was quite terse.

Yori sensed her teacher's unease. "She would not consent to accompany her brother?"

"No. She would not."

Yoriko joined her Sensei in his steadfast watch at the star-sprinkled sky. "I think I know my Ron-san as well as anyone, but I can't be certain…has he perceived her gradual indifference?"

"Perhaps; perhaps not. Neither his childlike nor his childish simplicity have never changed. He deliberately overlooked his mother's emotional distance all the days of his youth. He loves as a child loves. He sees the world in bold colors, either light or dark. Subtle shades are beyond him. Possible-san's first disappearance inflicted a grievous wound. He tried for many years to find solace in his wife and children. This recent trial will occupy his mind for the remainder of his life."

Yori sighed. "My Ron-san's smile is the lantern of my soul, Sensei. You know that. He is the delight of my eyes. I could not force myself to tell him of Hanako-san's true feelings."

"As you should not." Sensei offered Yori his arm "Walk with me, Yoriko-san."

Yori took her sensei's arm. They strolled aimlessly around the courtyard. She loved the old man like a grandfather. She was too young to know the changes he had brought to the School. He could be much more gregarious than his predecessor, it was said.

Sensei sighed deeply. "I have lived too long, my daughter. I feel my own mortality. Would that my eyes had already closed in eternal sleep before I saw this day."

Yoriko also sighed. "Yes, Sensei. I so long to give solace to my Ron-san. I so long to help you to bear the weight of this fearful burden."

"Speak carefully, daughter," Sensei laughed forlornly. "A rolling snowball gathers no moss…but it can start an avalanche. As Anatole France-san once wrote, Beware, my Lord! Beware lest stern Heaven hate you enough to hear your prayers!"

His student laughed quietly…and felt a sudden shiver. "My heart suddenly forewarns me…a son of my Ron-san's lineage will be born who has your gift of proverbs, my Sensei."

He shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps it is your love for him and I that moves you to speak so." He sighed again. "I have tried with all my ability to chart the course of our school through the waters of our appointed journey."

"And you have done well, my Sensei."

"I believed we were on the verge of a great age. For the first time since Toshimiru, the Hachisu Kyōshi would wield the both the _Hachisu no ha _and the _Mahō no Saru no Nōryoku_…the Lotus Blade and the Mystical Monkey Power. He would be someone from outside the _Ōyashima_. I saw it as an unprecedented opportunity to allow the Han to be raised among…" He grimaced. "…Outsiders." He growled. "I **hate** that word, Yoriko-san. If there was a word I could banish from our language, I would choose that one."

She jumped a little, startled at the uncharacteristic outburst. "I know, my Sensei." His strong feelings on the matter were rarely shown but well known.

He continued. "Fukushima-san disagreed. He tried to cause Stoppable-san to stumble. But that failed. And Stoppable-san rose to meet all challenges. He vanquished Monkey Fist by his own hand. Twice. And Fukushima. And retrieved the _Hachisu no ha. _And rescued both of us." He nudged Yoriko. "And ensnared your heart, my daughter."

She giggled. "It is very true."

"You have never lost your first love."

"No, Sensei."

He sighed again. "I too wish things that never were. But karma is karma. Stoppable-san appeared to justify my every faith in him." They walked another minute. "You once told Kimberly Possible-san that Stoppable-san was her destiny."

Yori also sighed. She became very quiet. "Yes…I did. Monkey Fist had sought to desecrate the Shrines of Napata. My Ron-san was compelled to baby-sit little Hana-chan…and Possible-san and I sought to brave the dangers alone. Alas. We were overconfident. Monkey Fist captured us both. And while we skipped like grasshoppers through a lava flow, my Ron-san appeared…with his sister and Rufus-san."

Sensei winked. "And a sack of flour named Sacky Ex Ex Ex Vee Ay Ay Ay."

She laughed sadly. "_Hai. _Poor Sacky perished ignobly. But my Ron-san bonded with his sister. And I bonded with my sister Possible-san."

"Monkey Fist misunderstood the Scroll of the Weapon. Loving the weapon makes it unstoppable. In point of fact, he misunderstood the nature of the weapon. It was the Han…the daughter of the house and lineage of Toshimiru."

Now Yori laughed sardonically. "It was a great blow to his pride. I found it very fulfilling, my Sensei, to watch his dismay when he realized his error."

"No doubt." Sensei also chuckled. "But tell me, Kamsumi-san…at Possible-san's seeming demise, did it come to your mind to woo Stoppable-san?"

"No, my Sensei. That would dishonor my sister's memory. If my Ron-san had wooed me, then I would deem I had that right. But that road was not taken."

"And with all that has happened…do you still feel the same? That Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable were destined for each other?"

Yori heaved a great sigh and blinked back her tears. "I do. Even with the evil tidings we hear. My faith remains strong…it is yet the will of Heaven that they should unite."

Their stroll took them to a stone bench under a fig tree. "Let us take the weight off our feet, Yoriko-san," said Sensei whimsically.

Yori was puzzled for a moment. "You mean…remove our shoes? Are we going indoors?"

Sensei's eyes twinkled as he gave her a sidelong glance.

She cupped her hand over her mouth and stifled a nervous laugh. "Oh no…have I done it again? Misinterpreted an American style phrase?"

Sensei sat on the bench. "I've known your family for four generations, my daughter", he said dryly. It's been three generations since the Pacific War. Our nation changed overnight. We became more American than the Americans. But you are still an offspring of the _Ōyashima."_ He reached over and lovingly squeezed the hand that was through his arm. He dearly loved the granddaughter of his old friend Ichiro Kansumi.

Yori sat on the ground, like a student, at the feet of a teacher. "Did Stoppable-san and Abé-san learn this from you, my Sensei, or did you learn this from them?" she asked wryly. "This teasing me for my…how shall I say it…my Nipponese-style naïveté?"

He patted the bench spot next to him. "Sit here…next to me…as an equal. Yes…what you call your naïveté…I prefer to think of it as artlessness. A complete sincerity and lack of deception."

She took the offered spot. "You appreciate the irony, Sensei. A ninja's stock in trade is deception."

"You ability as a ninja is without peer. But your strength of character has always allowed you to be honest and loyal in your personal dealings." He was quiet for a long moment. "Yoriko-san, I will share my heart with you. You, above all the others, love the Han. And the Chosen. You would never stoop to exploitation. And for that reason, I believe it is your karma to preside over this School and our Order after I am gone."

Yori suppressed a tremble at the solemn declaration. "If it seems good, Sensei. Karma is karma, as you say."

"These things I perceive. By her deed, Tara-san has cast a great rock into the water. The rapidly broadening wave has washed over many lives. Hanako-san's prejudices are only strengthened. Ronald-san's animosity toward his wife is only strengthened. And Alonzo-san's soul has been cruelly branded. He will never understand the great love his father still has for the 'Heroine with heart and hair of flame'…_Kokoro to kami o honoo no to kanojo eiyū_. And who can say how Kimberly-san's presence as an elder sister might have influenced little Hana-chan in her upbringing? This matter is fraught with tragedy in so many aspects." And he began to fall into the customary way of the teacher:

"In the days of the of the first Shōgun Tokugawa, the realm was a _sakoku_; a 'locked country'. None were allowed to enter or leave Nihon. Yamanouchi became a refuge in those days. We gladly received and sheltered many who feared for their lives. Emperor Meiji Tenno finally took the lock from the door.

"But Fukushima desired to bring the _sakoku_ to our school and our Order. He wanted to be like a Shōgun among us. You, my daughter, uncovered his base treachery, and Stoppable-san thwarted his plot.

"But I feel as though all our work has been undone. The Han and the Lotus Master are now divided in purpose and in heart. We have never been more vulnerable. It is almost as though an unseen enemy greater than Fukushima were sowing discord.

"For Kimberly Possible-san we can do nothing. A greater power than we can bring to bear must appear. But there is something else to consider, which will fall under your authority.

"My heart forewarns me also. We are on the verge of something as dire as when Monkey Fist unearthed the Yono. And I urge you…watch Hanako-san. I had such hopes for our little Hana. But she is changed. She appears to embody the philosophy of Hirata. And I fear she will be another Fukushima in our midst…a traitor."

Yori's heart plunged as though into the crevasse that the rope bridge crossed. It was as bad as she had dreaded. "Most august teacher…is there not reason for hope? Might not our Hana-chan yet think better? Might she not recall the teachings and the examples of her youth? As the Compassionate Buddha says, To understand everything is to forgive everything. And also…Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. As my Ron-san was fond of quoting, Train up a child in the way he should go, And even when he is old he will not depart from it. Hana-chan was raised in the glow of a bright flame. The light of his Kimberly-san lived in my Ron-san's heart. It was a life of compassion…" But she was grasping at straws.

"My Yoriko-san," said Sensei with weary resignation, "You too have the gift of proverb. But consider…the Compassionate Buddha also says We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. And the Lord Christ has said, By their fruits you shall know them. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree brings forth good fruit; but the corrupt tree brings forth evil fruit. I fear that the great example that might have shaped her life was denied her…the love of Stoppable-san and Possible-san…the love you saw…and I…saw."

"You did not share this with Stoppable-san."

"No. His cup of sorrow already overflows. The counsel I give you now is a counsel of war. As Sun Tzu has said, Command your people in a way that gives them a higher shared purpose. You can lead them to death. You can lead them to life. They must never fear danger or dishonest. And he also said, The commander must be a military professional. This requires confidence and detachment. You must maintain dignity and order. You must control what your men see and hear. They must follow you without knowing your plans. It is a narrow trail to tread, this path between deception and keeping one's own counsel.

"I have revealed to you this deepest notion of mine. Both Tara Stoppable and Kimberly Possible are indications of how grievously people can fall. Monkey Fist and Fukushima used each other without scruple. Hanako is not ambitious for power, as Monkey Fist was. But she is ambitious for the simplicity of the Bushido and for the purity of the old ways, as Fukushima was. And I fear she, like the old Shōgun, will not refrain from ruthless deeds. She will expend lives and make advantageous alliances.

"As Fukushima and Monkey Fist exploited each other, my heart forewarns me that she will use anyone…or anything…to accomplish her ends…including the children of Stoppable-san. Respect her; she is the Han, Toshimiru's descendant. Extend mercy toward her; she is still our little Hana. But first and foremost, safeguard the students of the school and the heritage of the Order. In your hands I place this sacred trust, my daughter."

The air was deathly still. Sensei's eyes were dark with sorrow.

The student had always listened attentively to the master's teachings; she listened again, this time to battle orders, to what might be the dying words of a commander to his chief officer.

Yoriko drew in a sobbing breath…and she exhaled a calm breath. Her sensei had granted her spoken wish…to help him bear the fearful burden. "_Hai_." She nodded and bowed her head, accepting the awful responsibility…and accountability, should she fail. "I understand, my Sensei," she said quietly.

_**to be continued**_

A /N I threw a lot of info at y'all in my preface. If you're interested, here's some more reading;

Asia And Western Dominance; A Survey Of The Vasco Da Gama Epoch Of Asian History 1498-1945 by K.M. Panikkar. (Non-European, by the way. I try to be multiethnic in my search for sources.)

The Religions Of Japan From The Dawn Of History To The Era Of Meiji by William Eliot Griffis.

Theology Of Shinto by Raymond D. Mercer. This last one is more simplistic. It's goal is how a Christian should share their faith with one who professes Shinto without offending them.

All available on the web.


	8. Chapter 8  denied!

Like I said; last chpt. was a bear to write. This one flowed. In fact, I had it all pre-set to post.

Be warned. Kinda short. Kinda dark. Mucho profanity.

What's a K.P. fan-story without K.P.?

In chpt. 5, Sensei suggested to Ron the harrowing and ghoulish alternative of dismembering Kim's body again and hanging up the parts so they wouldn't reform. My gal Alice Shade introduced this into her story when Kim took her revenge on Tara by hanging her up in the same fashion in the cistern, after killing her…just in case the Undeath phenomenon should recur.

She also suggested that Kim would've dug her way out…somehow…gradually. Alice had a good point. But as every devious fan-writer knows, a good point never gets in the way of a good story. :D

In all seriousness, I thank my gal Alice. She's got a good head on her shoulders. Levelheaded and practical. The adulation of a dozen fans is good for the ego. The cold analysis of one good critic helps make the adulation deserved. It may not have been her intent; but her insight has taken my head and this story in directions it otherwise might've never gone. She's a generous soul, too. More liberal with letting her stories be used than open source software.

Remember the scene from Star Wars; Revenge Of The Sith? Anakin Skywalker is lying on the ground, his limbs severed, spewing his awful hatred at Obi Wan Kenobi? That's how I envision Kim, consumed by the dark side.

What is it they say when someone is thwarted? "Denied!"

_from __**Beyond The Grave: We Do What We Must**____by Alice Shade_

_She yanked on chain yet again. It rattled. There was no way to check for progress other then feeling up the chain to the wall and poking at the subtle cracks slowly forming, and she was conserving her strength as much as she could. No movement wasted - that was the motto of the day... Day? Week? Month, maybe?_

_She remembered well. As it happened, as the lid scraped across the hole, cutting off the last of light. She struggled madly back then, pulling and jerking her chains ferociously. She kept struggling until exhaustion overcame her and she collapsed. Hours later, when she regained consciousness, she resumed her struggle. Minutes, hours, days... As she fought on, oblivion came more and more often, claiming her for what little recuperation she could garner. In the end, she remembered lying without any strength, mustering enough energy to yank chain once an hour by the sheer willpower alone._

_Evidently, she was supposed to extinguish here, alone and forgotten. But she didn't like that idea. It was not acceptable. And oblivion stepped back time and time again so she could resume her struggle. She never paused to observe herself, the only goal of her life to rip the chain out of the wall and stand up freely. Everything else was inconsequential until the main objective could be fulfilled. She gave up on her senses, neither sight, nor sound, nor smell giving her any useful information, and concentrated on the chain._

_Yank. Another yank. And another. There was no question of if it was possible at all - she knew that chain would eventually break. It was just a matter of when. Until then, all she had to do was to pace herself and put all that she had into yanking. And suddenly, it was over. With a quiet crack, steel ring gave in, concrete crumble and dust trickling down the wall as the ring suddenly gave slack. It was a first sign of success. Yank. Another yank. And another... And yet another…_

…_Coming back to the original spot, she felt the edges of hole left by yanked out ring. Bingo. That weak spot would be where she would redouble her efforts to escape. Escape and... have revenge. Concrete crumbled a little. Sliding her fingers over the dandling chain, she grabbed it's end, and racked it against the cracking concrete. Again. And again. And again._

_She smelled dust. Something was subtly different about the smell of crumbling concrete. Could it be that she was breaking through the wall already? She pressed the end of her makeshift tool into the crack again…._

…_She picked up metal from her lap and pressed it into the crack again, wrenching out more and more concrete with each shove. She would not be held in this prison. Nor in any other prison. No matter what it takes._

_**chpt 8**_

"_**denied!"**_

As soon as Kim was reformed and past her first horrific tirade, she undertook a meticulous inspection of the entire inner surface of the cistern. "Should'a done this twenty years ago," she muttered. " 'Cept I thought it was just a few hours…or days."

She found the ring in the wall that Tara had looped the handcuffs through. She kept yanking on it until it loosened. She finally jerked it out of the wall.

_Hah! _She crowed to herself. _First hole in the dike, Tara! Say your prayers!_

Suddenly a bright white hot incandescent flash erupted in the cistern, like a lightning bolt. It was followed by a earsplitting _boom _of thunder.

Kim jumped, startled. She scrunched her eyes shut and covered her ears with her hands. "Eeeek! What-the-**Hell**?"

With a dawning realization and sense of dismay, she looked around helplessly. There was a deafening din of shrieking monkeys. It subsided in a second. The bright flash faded to a dim blue glow. The cistern was plunged back into total darkness, except for the spots in front of her eyes…and the shower of sparks where she had wrenched the ring out of the wall.

Kim's heart fell. "No…_oh, God, no_!" She ran her hand over the wall...only to discover it was now a smooth surface. **"Nooooo!"**

The last time she had heard that sound and seen that radiance was the night of her high school commencement. Her Beloved had seized both Warmonga and Warhok and flung them toward the sky. They had collided with the Lowardian starship and had disappeared in a great ball of flame. Warmonga's shriek of hatred and frustration was suddenly cut off.

Kim was overwhelmed. Her heart had nearly burst with astonishment and pride.

This time the deed evoked a different reaction. It was another deep sense of betrayal. And it sparked another horrendous outburst of rage. It was Kim who shrieked at the top of her lungs. **"Daaaamn yoooou…Ron Stoppable! I hope you burn in hell! This is your Mystical Monkey Mojo! Is it something that sack-of-shit Sensei taught you how to do? Fukking damn you to hell! Are you listening? I'll eat your daughter for this! The one named after me! I'll tear her to pieces and scarf her like she was sushi!"**

She struck the wall with a one-two punch. And then a kick. In the days of her heroism, such blows crumpled strong men like straw dummies. But now her bones splintered like dry sticks. Pain like lightning shot up her arms and legs. Maybe her nervous system was still functional. Maybe the pain was psychosomatic. Popping sounds like cracking knuckles indicated the rejoining of her fractured bones. Faint blue sparkles shimmered in the wall where a slight scoring was mended. It was like her childhood Fourth of July sparklers…or Ron's old Spark Rock Candy.

Kim lifted her face toward the unseen world above. **"RON!" **In the days of her mortality, such a scream would have seared her throat and burst an artery or two. **"FUKKING PRICK! CAN YOU HEAR ME? I'LL MAKE YOU HEAR ME! EVEN THROUGH THIS MAUSOLEUM YOU STUCK ME IN!…**_**I HATE YOU!**_**"**

In the world above, Ron took a deep sigh. The deed was accomplished. He had done what no villain ever succeeded in doing: creating the perfect death trap for Kim Possible. If he knew his partner, she was already trying to break out of her confinement. And he could anticipate the irreversible frenzy of rage it would provoke when she discovered her efforts were futile. He swallowed. His throat felt raw with heartsickness….

_**to be continued…**_


	9. Chapter 9 I love you not

This is not a happy scene. This is not a setting of tranquil domestic bliss.

In between the time my USB flash drive and laptop went kaflooey last October with all my fan-stories and getting the file undeletion software in February, I composed a number of scenes, including this, to fit into the main story thread. Yeesh. Glacial Slowness and Plot Bunnies. Not a good combo for finishing stories.

But the thought hit me…how would a man react who learned his wife had killed his True Love, and set into motion a chain of events like what happened here? He would probably feel like getting abusive.

While blogging, I've encountered people who've had abusive partners. It's been an eye-opener.

I draw upon the things I've learned. The love, the shame, the attraction and revulsion that people feel; sometimes all at the same time. The world is a dark place sometimes. Only the Light of Christ can illumine it. There. An unashamed plug from your Born Again Bible Thumper. May He shine upon each of us, according to the measure of our receptiveness.

We open from an excerpt from the original story. And we sort of expand on it. Like I mentioned a couple chpt's ago: Alice Shade's fic has taken my head places I otherwise wouldn't have gone.

As usual, the references to Kim's murder and Tara and Ron's marriage are from Captainkodak's story A Box Of CuddleBuddies, and of Kim's ghastly resurrection are from daccu65's story, Family Legacy.

_From __**A Heroine's Legacy, chpt 2, The Lid Closes**__**…**_

_Ron used the Lotus Blade to pry the lid closed. "Goodbye, Kim. I love you." He wanted to jump into the dark…even if she should draw and quarter him. Glancing at Lon was the only thing that held him back._

_Just hours ago, Kim had been delirious with joy at escaping. Now it was like a horrible replay of the event. "Ronald Stoppable! I hate you! I hate her! I hate you both…__**forever**__!" _

_And like the Resurrection of Christ in reverse, the stone rolled shut._

_Her body was whole-as whole as it would ever be. She screamed…she wailed…she groaned aloud…over and over-__**"Ron! Ron! I love you! Ron!"**_

_In the world above, Ron glared at his wife. "Now, Tara…explain! And I'd better hear every little detail!"_

_Tara glanced nervously at the Lotus Blade gripped in her husband's fist. "Ron…are you going to kill me?"_

_Lon's gaze shifted from his father to his mother. He too was appalled at the sudden thought.._

_Ron's words were short and clipped. "Don't-tempt-me-Tara!" With a glimmer of blue, the Lotus Blade faded from view, and mother and son breathed a sigh of relief._

_The closing of the cistern lid that brought an end to Kim's brief freedom also brought an end to Tara's life of happiness as she had known it. Ron would not leave. He must guard the monster from escape. He would not let Tara leave. He bound Lon to secrecy. The Possible family must not know the fate of the beloved sister and daughter they thought to be in eternal rest._

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY; A BARRIER THAT RESTRAINS**_

_**Chpt 9**_

_**I love you…not**_

It had been a busy but happy Halloween. Scads of trick-or-treaters had come to the house. "Scads." She smiled at herself. That was what her grandmother would've called it.

Tara's parents had been there. Her mother Regina. Her father Templeton and his wife Sylvia. Ronnie's parents Rachel and Abel had come. Just to watch the little goblins and superheroes and other characters. Then they went to the Scare For Care Fundraiser that the Possibles hosted yearly at the Tri-City Medical Center. It was part of the yearly tradition.

Soon Ronnie and the kids would be home from the Fundraiser. Would her husband and Josh Mankey pull some stupid thing like trying to scare her in the ancient unicorn costume? They usually did. Either her or Josh's wife Liz. That too was tradition. Those two clowns, she thought affectionately. But Tara didn't scare easily…

…Then she heard footsteps in the house. And smelled an awful stench, like a decayed thing. And came face to face Decay Itself.

Like the delirium of a bad horror movie…or some kind of medieval painting about the terrors of the damned…the girl Tara had quietly buried twenty years before came back. Stringy hair like pond scum. Staring lidless eyes full of demonic hate. Yellow-brown teeth. Still with the handcuff manacles on Its wrists.

Ronnie had returned in the nick of time. He subdued the hellish thing. The hero she had fallen in love with was once more unveiled. But when the monster was safely contained once more, he turned his stern eye at his wife, his knuckles white as he gripped the mystical blue katana.

She already knew what he wanted to do. She could barely ask the question without stammering. Their oldest son stared fearfully. To her relief, her husband sent his magic sword away to whatever unseen place it resided.

But he grilled her. Not with his voice. Only with his eyes. And with her own eyes downcast, she sat at the dining room table and dispassionately related how she had lured Kim Possible to the house with a box of limited edition CuddleBuddies …and then gassed her with her own knockout chemical…and then sealed her up in the old cistern. And then, disguised as Kim, in the very mask Ronnie had prepared for a mission, Tara had made it appear that Kim had drowned at Middleton Lake. No detail was left unspoken. It was all done for love of Ron, who Kim would doubtless one day walk out on again.

Ronnie's voice was hollow. "We got married back there, Tara. In the g*ddam back yard. Us two. With all our friends and families. We stood up. In front of Pastor Davis and Rabbi Katz. We had our reception there. You had a special chair set up. With one of K.P.'s mission suits. In honor of the absent friend, you said. Mrs. Dr. P. couldn't get over how thoughtful you were."

"I know, Ronnie," she answered in a flat voice.

"Dammit to **hell**, Tara!" he thundered. "Our kids **played** back there!"

It made her jump. She burst into tears.

Ron disappeared with Lon after that. Tara didn't even notice them leave. She got out the carpet cleaner and removed every trace of muddy footprints of the walking Corpse, both upstairs and down. She ran the house climate control on the deodorize setting for the entire time. Everything looked and smelled sweet and clean. If only she could remove the blood from her hands…or her deed from history…as easily, she thought bitterly.

Tim Possible's wife Karen had dropped off Roy and Kimmie after the Scare For Care. The youngest Stoppable child was in the throes of her first serious crush…with Karen and Tim's son Ronnie.

Behaving like an automaton, Tara got her children to bed. She got them up the next morning for school. Dad's absence was easy to explain. He was off to the catering hall. It was the family business. Where was Lon? He had to be to school early. Mr. Barkin was making the athletes practice before school. So easily she thought up excuses. What was a little deception after committing murder?

Tara washed the dishes and cleaned up in the kitchen. She stared absently now and then out the window at the back yard. At the cement slab her sons had tried to pry open. There It waited.

She walked around the house like the survivor of a natural disaster. Staring blankly ahead. Sometimes she sat…and stared blankly ahead. She barely noticed the passage of time. Ironically, her husband and eldest son were in the same condition, across an ocean.

She noticed background noise. Suddenly, the house was full once more. Everyone was home. Even Ronnie and Lonnie. Activity occurred all around her. Her daughter was bickering with the boys.

Tara was stunned. Was she that shellshocked? How much time had passed?

Her daughter scampered past, nine years old and agile as a mouse. "Mom! Help! Lonnie's after me!"

Tara called after her. "Kimmie…have you seen your father?"

Lon charged through, sixteen years old and exercising the Stoppable mad running skills, but no match for a little darting mouse. "Kim! You bring that back here!"

Tara called after him. "Lonnie…what's your sister done?"

But he looked her coldly, then ignored her.

Kim's voice came floating back from the yard, taunting her brother. "Lonnie! Writing love notes to Lorrie Mankey with pencil and paper? Pul-eeze! You're so **ancient**!"

Roy followed, thirteen years old and evincing the Stoppable laid-back-ness, walking swiftly but calmly.

Tara called after him. "Roy…have you seen your father?"

And Roy called back. "Yeah, Mom. He's upstairs."

Tara went upstairs. Her daughter's laughter and squeals could be heard from the back yard. "Lon! Stop it! I **didn't** take your stupid note! I'm **not** ticklish! Roy! Help! Eeeep…!"

Tara came to the bedroom and peered shyly in. "Ron?"

He looked sourly at her. The closet was open. Dresser drawers were open. The bed was covered with clothes. Ron was furiously packing a large box with items.

Tara tentatively spoke. "Ron…I…I wondered where you were."

"Lonnie 'n' I took a trip," he said curtly.

"You and Lonnie? Father and son? That's good…I…I…guess."

He looked at her in disgust. "You guess."

"Well…you two needed some time…to get over…"

"…To 'get over'? To 'get over' **what**?" His face was twisted with hatred. His voice was thick with sarcasm. His words were loaded with acid. His glare was bitter rancid with poison. What the **hell** could there **possibly** be 'get over'?"

Tara jumped, startled. She began to sob. It was a horrible ironic pun, the way he emphasized the word "possibly". And Tara knew that Ron Stoppable hated irony. "Ronnie…please…the kids…"

"Yeah. The kids. They'll overhear us. The kids are the only reason I'm here. The kids are the only reason I don't go and dig up Kim and let her rip us both to shreds."

Tara muffled her sobs with both her fists.

He sneered at her. "Just to bring you up to date…I put in a call to Hana…and then to Sensei."

She swallowed and spoke with difficulty. "Sensei? You mean…at your ninja school? Yah…Yabba…Yammer…"

"Yamanouchi. I showed my son the part of my life I've kept secret since our wedding. Outa respect for you. 'Cause I thought any reminder of K.P. might make problems. I needed some topnotch advice about…" And he rudely inclined his head toward the backyard where Kim was buried. "…our new little 'problem'.

"Here's the bottom line. Kim can't be cured. She's that way forever. Sensei thinks she's insane. He thinks she's pissed at everybody. He's afraid she'll dig her way out. And if she does, she won't stop with just killing our family. She'll go after everyone she knows. So I hadda put up some kinda magical force field. And I gotta stay near the place for the thing to work. And our kids have the same ability."

She tried to digest all the information. It was dizzying. "Our…children? They can do…what you can do? With the Kung-Fu? And the samurai sword?"

"It's called the _Tai Sheng Pek Quar_, Tara. And the sword is a katana. It's called the _Hachisu no ha_…the Lotus Blade. And what they…what **we **got is called the _Mahō no saru no nōryoku_…the Mystical Monkey Power. I gotta bunch of badical names. I'm the _Saishū-tekina saru no Kyōshi_…the Ultimate Monkey Master. The _Hachisu Kyōshi_…the Lotus Master. The _Hachisu no ha no unpan-jin_...the Bearer of the Blade. The _Yamauchi no eraba reta_…the Chosen of Yamanouchi. Get used to it, Tara. Our kids are gonna hear those words. They're gonna learn what I learned. They hafta go to Yamanouchi to learn how to use their gift. They're gonna make us both proud of them. At least they're gonna make me proud. I could care less how you feel. You freakin' murdered the woman who should've been their mother." He was vehemently folding clothing and stuffing the box.

Tara suppressed a sudden high-pitched squeaky sob. It did sound grand. The way he just rattled off the words. He sounded like a king. Like a fabled warrior. But she was left on the outside. She would not be a partaker in the fabled heritage. Impulsively, she raised up her hand to try and grasp his. He responded by grabbing her hand like a striking snake.

It was her left hand. As he squeezed, her wedding band bit into her fingers. "Ouch…Ronnie…please…"

His words were slow and deliberate, with deadly calm. "Did Kim beg, Tara? Did she scream her head off? 'Please, Tara…don't kill me!' Was it something like that?"

Tara cringed. Another horrible pun. Ron had been forced to decapitate Kim in the desperate battle. She bit her lip and nodded frantically. "Yes…I mean…she…ow…"

Ron snarled with disgust and tightened his grip.

Tara winced. She dropped to her knees. "Ronnie…" she squeaked, "…You're hurting me."

"Say it, Tara. Beg me not to kill you. Like Kim begged you."

Tara shook her head. "No, Ronnie." Her voice was a raspy whisper. "Whatever you do to me is right. I deserve whatever I get." Her eyes glowed with adoration. She had murdered for him. She would gladly be murdered for him.

Ron felt nauseous. And guilt-ridden. It was a sick-and-wrong love, to use his old expression. But he understood it perfectly. Tara was as willing to let him kill her as he was willing to let Kim kill him. And here he was, behaving in a way he would have despised if someone else were doing it. He released her roughly, and she flopped to the floor, both her palms flat, her tender and adoring gaze unbroken.

"Here's what I'm gonna **do**, Tara. I'm movin' out of our bedroom. I'm gonna fix up a room in the attic and move into that. Just like I had to do when my folks adopted Hana. Ain't that a trip? It took half my life to get a clue. But I finally got the message. I don't get to have good stuff. Not my own room. And not my own life. You 'n' Mom were right. K.P. was too Type A for me. Too high-maintenance. Something woulda' happened. Well, hell's bells…something **did **happen. You made damned sure of that. Shit, I'm lucky I got such fantastic kids."

Tara was kneeling at the bedside, as though in prayer. Looking up with the big blue eyes. "Ronnie…you don't have to do that. I can take the attic."

He shook his head. "Nah. Keep your freakin' room. Hell, it was your folks' room. Your dad moved out. Maybe it's jinxed. Maybe the whole freakin' property is jinxed. Maybe that's why K.P. is a freakin' zombie." He grinned fiendishly. "I'll take the attic. And I'm gonna fix it up to look like…Kim's old loft. Since I gotta stay here anyway, I may as well make it like where I was happiest. And hey…I was always hoping we would find her body someday. And we did…didn't we?

His grin became eviler, and Tara flinched again.

"Since KP is now our permanent guest…it would be sick and wrong not to fix up a place for her memory to live in…since she's sorta stuck where she is." He spread his hands. "Hey…this is my heaven on earth. Livin' on the same property with K.P. and sleepin' in K.P.'s bed. I can almost pretend it's real. And here's what else is gonna happen. We're gonna be a happy little family. Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P. and Kim's fam and the whole freakin' world thinks she's resting in peace. And who the hell is gonna believe the real story anyway? Our daughter is the biggest K.P. fan-girl since Joss Possible. I'm sure as hell not gonna tell her that her heroine is a zombie freak and wants to kill her because her own mother killed **her**. You hear what I'm sayin, Tara?"

Tara sniffled and nodded silently.

"Good." He frowned blackly. "I gotta get supper on. Fix your face before you let the kids see you." And he left with the box.

Tara curled up on their bed. His pillow was gone, and the portion of the bedspread that had once covered it lay flat and rumpled. She now had the entire bed to herself. The sliding closet door was partially open. The empty half of the bed and the empty half of the closet silently mocked her.

She took her own pillow out and hugged it. She buried her face in it and cried, sobbing as though her heart would break. _I love you, Ronnie…God, how I love you…I'm sorry…please, God…I'm so sorry…_

_**to be continued…**_


	10. Chapter 10 the tragedy of Hana Stoppable

I was reading Twin Flames Of Darkness by my man Screaming Phoenix, who is now departed this mortal vale, and more pieces fell into place regarding Hana Stoppable.

That story deals with Kim and Ron coming from different AU's. In that world, the Meiji Restoration never took place. It makes for some interesting political ramifications in modern Japan.

This first got written 'way back on a chill day in November 2010. I was going to put it in my source story, A Heroine's Legacy. I was going to post it at my DeviantArt site (another page with the hokey grinning slice of rye bread). But I decided to put it here. It isn't even part of the Barrier That Restrains story proper; but it might explain why Hana's head is where it's at. It's hot off the press, composed on this morning. For the Glacially Slow Writer, that's pretty rockin' good.

Your humble fan-writer has been at it again. Imagining the mythos. Reinventing the show and the fan-stories. We fill the pot with our story. We add a dash…or two…or three…of archeology and mythology. We pour in a ridiculously outsized amount of the ingredient that moi loves: drama. We carefully measure out just a portion of another story arc: Ron's mom's "problem"; an awful debilitating thing that inflicts far too many people; clinical depression.

I tread on new ground with this topic. This plot arc is sort of working itself out. We will see how Kim's absence has sort of etched yet another life with sorrow.

Kim's story…Ron's story…Hana's story…and even Monty Fiske's and Amy Hall's stories…these are all human stories. Love, tragedy, temptation, disillusionment. It happens to you, me…to all. Let me get embarrassingly personal. If some random reader feels like the crap is piled on so heavy they despair of life itself…I beg you to have hope. Your story is being written. All our stories are being written. There's a couple books I've been reading; C.S. Lewis' The Problem Of Pain and A Grief Observed. I recommend 'em.

Yeah, yeah, I'm a Born Again Bible Thumper and I keep touting Jesus. But take it from me. I'm not talking quick fake fix. I'm talking about making it through this mess called life a day at a time. Not to browbeat you or get on you. You are cared for. You are looked after. Count on it. Stake your life on it.

And like our own life stories, this arc is still being written.

_**the tragedy of Hana Stoppable **_

Some children begin walking as seven or eight months. Some don't walk until fifteen or sixteen months. Kim Possible began walking at six months. Ron Stoppable didn't begin walking until sixteen months. Or maybe it was seventeen or eighteen. His parents somehow didn't notice. And poor Ronnie kept tripping on the diaper that kept sliding down.

Hana Stoppable was walking…and running…on the ceiling…by the time she reached that age.

It was evident to Ron his little baby ninja sister was another overachiever. Just like his girlfriend. He figured being around Kim had been a dry run for this experience. He looked forward to being a parental big brothr. Equipped with Flippy videos and books, he devoted himself to dutifully tutoring her.

"If he put the same effort into his own schoolwork, he might have a better grade point average than a 'C'," observed Kim dryly.

And Ron responded. "K.P., it ain't about the grade-point-age. It's about the heart-point-age."

Even for Ron, this was sort of an awkward way to phrase it. But Kim understood. She found it hard to disagree with that assessment. In fact, she was moved to say one day, "Ron, you're going to make a badical parent."

She meant it as sincere praise. But she had already confessed her romantic love for him. And so those words contained much more meaning than they otherwise might. And they both realized it. Both mouths were agape and both sets of cheeks blushed.

She stammered. "I mean…I meant…oh, golly…"

But Ron only shrugged and smiled bashfully. "I'm just tryin' to keep up with Middleton's most bondiggity babysitter."

Kim blushed again and murmured, "Thank you." And she gave him a peck on the lips.

Hana lit up at the sight. "Kiss!" she squealed. This was her signal to resume the game they had started after the battle with Yono. She dove under them and slid up between them. Little arms circled Ron's neck, and she bestowed a rather wet kiss on his cheek. "Bru-ther!"

She did likewise to Kim. "Kay-pee!" And another wet kiss.

Little Hana loved all she saw. "Ma-ma" and "Da-da". "Sen-say". The old one with the white scalplock, twinkling eyes, full flowing beard and moustache, and bright red caftan. "Yo-ree". The younger one with the dark almond eyes, black silken hair, and melodic voice.

But it was the others who defined her world. "Bru-ther". His ears were big, his hair was bright yellow, and his cheeks were freckled. He called her "Widdle Intwuder" and "Boo-bah". She loved it when he tickled her and said, "Who's a Boo-bah?" He did funny things that made her laugh until she hiccupped, like sprinkling himself with flour and letting his pants fall down. He did fun things, like dance with her to her favorite music, read to her, and push her in the swing. And most fun of all, he took her with him to the special places, where the machines made bright lights and explosions, and where they could wear the hard hat-thing and fall out into the sky for what seemed like forever. It was like flying.

And "Roo-fus", the cute little one who was always with Bru-ther. He was tiny and pink. He talked with a funny high voice. He ate cheese and slept a lot. He had a tail and whiskers that twitched. His grin was bright and infectious.

And "Kay-pee". She also was with Bru-ther almost all the time. She could do flips and jumps and spins almost as well as Hana. She did the fun things like go with them to the places with the machines and explosions, and jump out and float to the ground. And she the most captivating eyes and hair. Hana didn't know what to call colors yet. But those burnished locks were almost as bright as Sen-say's clothes. They were like a candle flame, warm and glowing. And the eyes…Hana would stare at Kay-pee's eyes intently. They were unique in all her experience. She had nothing else to compare them to.

And "Wayd", the mysterious boy who she never saw in real life. He appeared on the little video screen Kay-pee wore on her arm, like the Flippy dancers appeared on the bigger screen of the DVD player. It was all very mysterious. Wayd himself had darker skin than Ma-ma, Da-da, Kay-pee, or Bru-ther.

She would meet Wayd in person at the Middleton High School Class of 2007 Commencement. He was bigger than the little image on the thing Kay-pee called her Kimmunica-something…which reassured her. She was beginning to grasp the concept of images representing real people.

In the presence of Kay-pee and Bru-ther, Hana felt galvanized. Her intellect became keener, and her spirit became freer. Besides picking up things like dancing, eating cheese, "page", "boo-yah", "badical", and "bondiggity" from Bru-ther, Kay-pee taught her polysyllabic phrases like "What's the sitch," and "It was no big," and even "So not." She even taught Hana how to do a special face; a face with sad eyes and frowning little mouth with quivering lower lip.

"Hana…can you do 'Puppy Pout' for Bru-ther?"

And they would both direct their gazes at Bru-ther, who would cover his face and wail "Augh! Oh, mannn! Not **both** of you! No fair!"

And both Hana and Kay-pee would burst into gales of laughter.

Hana and Kim. The two of them bonded deeply. They loved each other intensely. Kim wanted especially to bond with Hana. The adorable little one represented a side of Ron's life that Kim felt detached from; his involvement of Yamanouchi. Hana was a part of the whole myth-y legend-y thing. She was the _Han_…whatever that meant. It was also a part that belonged to Yori, and it was a deeper wound than Kim admitted even to herself.

Kim had an inordinate amount of male influence in her upbringing. A relentlessly cheerful father, two prankster little brothers, and a best friend. Even her mother and nana represented strong role models rather than motherly nurturing influence. It was not a detriment; only a hardly discernable absence. Except for a little Raggedy Ann, Kim had no dolls growing up, and did not miss them. When it came to as small a thing as trick-or-treating, it was she who chose a cowboy costume, inspired by her Uncle Slim, a Montana rancher. She ignored the pink ballerina tutu her mother had bought for her. It was left to Ron to wear that, out of an innate sense if silliness; and in response to Mrs. Dr. P.'s obvious sadness. She had tried briefly to make Kim a pigtails-and-hair-ribbons girl. But Kim preferred tumbling, sports, and marital arts training to dollies and frills. Ironically, it was Ron who, out of the two of them, played with an iconic girl's toy; a Granny Crocket oven, and made meals for his stuffed animals.

When she became an adolescent, Kim did love clothing, as many girls did, but it was not the same. Her first close female friend and confidante who was not another athlete or cheerleader (and therefore another rival) was Monique Watson.

Babysitting gave her just a taste of association with motherliness. The arrival of Hana into her life as Kim was entering into adulthood made her finally aware of the lack. Kim did with Hana what Kim's mother was hardly allowed to do with her; to brush and style a little girl's hair and dress a little girl in frocks and lace.

The timing was propitious. And Hana was marvelously empathetic. They were big and little sister; and perhaps more. Kim hardly dared to envision the word "daughter" in regards to Hana; but the appearance was obvious to all who had eyes, whether it was Ron, or their parents, or Monique. Kim resolved to herself to impart her own stamp on the little girl.

It made Rachel Stoppable's already fragile sense of motherhood and esteem unsteady. Like Anne Possible, she had been a mother with a job outside the home, with all the issues that accompanied that situation.

But a great tragedy took place. Kim disappeared one day, just before a date with Ron. She was presumed drowned. An intensive search yielded no clue. She was finally declared dead.

It was especially poignant at the funeral. Hana sat on Ron's lap during the service. She had not seen Kim in many days. She was baffled by all the sadness. She kept hearing Kim's name mentioned in the eulogy. She stood up and glanced around for her big sister-figure. She looked over both Ron's shoulders. Finally she asked, "Bru-ther…Kay-pee?"

The sight of those big limpid eyes was too much for Ron. His lip trembling, he said in a hoarse whisper. "K.P.'s in Heaven, Han."

The big adorable eyes became bigger. "Heben?" she asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, Boo-bah. Heben."

Mrs. Dr. P. overheard. She dabbed her eyes with her kerchief and sighed. Someone should have explained to the little girl long before this. But in light of Kim's presumed death, many other things got relegated to a lower priority.

Little Hana at last understood from the use of Bru-ther's most tender name for her, and his sadness, that Kay-pee had gone away and would not return. No more Puppy Pout. No longer the bejeweled eyes to return her gaze. She impulsively hugged Bru-ther's neck and whimpered. Little tears ran down the little cheeks.

The great tragedy gave rise to other great tragedies.

The first was the recurrence of Rachel Stoppable's mental and emotional disability. She had an episode. Her husband Abel had called it a breakdown. Rachel hated that word. She hated the very mention of that summer, when they had to send Ronnie to camp. He would call, disconsolate and homesick, every day.

"Rachel!" Abel would insist. "That boy needs to be home!"

"No! I won't let him see me…like this!"

"Then you need help."

"No! Not that, either! All I need is…a few more days."

"Rach…please."

"No! And don't you indulge him! My family didn't indulge me!"

The second was Ron's emotional withdrawal. His soulmate, the queen of his heart, his great inamorata and passionaria was gone.

The third was Hana's emotional abandonment. In the great emotional tsunami,, her emotional survival as at stake. And her anchor lines had been cut. Ma-ma was a bedridden basket case, sometimes catatonic. Da-da was likewise withdrawn, hardly a presence in the home. Bru-ther was himself overwhelmed. The maintenance of the family had fallen on Ron's narrow shoulders.

When they were younger, a more frivolous Ron had made a flippant remark to Kim about the pressures of being a single parent, raising a naked more rat.

He was now that single parent.

On the eve of the epic battle with Yono, he reflected wistfully that at least he had taught Hana the value of a family that loved her. But the fabric was worn. It was almost threadbare.

There was a particular night when things came to a head. The pot that long simmered boiled over, spilling a bitter broth.

Rachel was moaning to herself. Hana sought to comfort her. "Ma-ma?"

Suddenly Rachel wailed "I'm a monster! I'm evil! No one loves me! I'm better off dead!"

Da-da charged out of the house. "I can't deal with this, Rachel!"

Bru-ther blurted out, "Mom! You abandoned me for an entire summer! Will you just shut the hell up?"

Rachel's emotional simmer became a meltdown. "You all hate me! Why don't you just kill me?"

Ron sulked furiously. "Geez! What a drama queen!"

"**Drive me out to Middleton Lake! Then you can drown me with Kim!"** she shrieked

Ron reciprocated. "Mom! Shut the hell up!"

Hana looked at it all with absolute bewilderment. She began crying.

Ron gave her a single swat across her backside…and he was aghast at himself.

He took Hana up in his arms, snatched up the diaper bag, and ran from the house, amid Rachel's screams and accusations of everyone abandoning her. He ran to the Possibles.

"Mr. Dr. P…can I borrow the Sloth? I need to take Hana to Yamanouchi."

James Timothy Possible saw a young man practically beside himself. Ron had looked sorrowful but composed for this entire ordeal. He made an educated guess what had transpired at the Stoppable home, and was ironically thankful that all he had to deal with was the untimely passing of his Kimmie-cub.

He racked his brain. His wife was at the Medical Center and his sons were at the library. The man who felt himself so unequal to one-on-one encounter struggled to sway the young man he looked on as a third son from an ill-advised action. "Ron? Is that a good idea?" There might be a matter of custody. "Why don't we call Rabbi Katz?"

But Ron only stood there with his hand extended for the car keys. His verbal request was a mere formality. He was making a demand.

Hana, meanwhile, heard the words _"Take Hana to…" _and understood she was being deserted. She clung to Ron. "No!" she wailed. "Won't go!"

James Timothy Possible feared a meltdown like the one he suspected had taken place in the Stoppable household. He retrieved the keys and folded them into Ron's hand. And when Ron tried to take his hand back, Mr. Dr. P. kept a tight clasp. "Before you go," he said quietly, "Please promise me this. Go to that spot on Mount Middleton. Kim's and your favorite place…the one I always disapproved of. And have a good talk…you and Hana and the voice of my daughter…the voice I know lives in all of us. Ask your K.P. what she would do."

Ron was dumbstruck. It was as though Sensei were talking. He nodded and took the keys. "Han…" he said slowly, "Let's just go for a ride."

The Tweebs had made a cyber electronic infant car seat. It was still in the Sloth from the last time Hana and Kim had 'gone for a ride." He buckled her in.

Hana resignedly submitted. She knew he was taking her away.

They stopped at the old spot on Mount Middleton, near the edge of a precipice. The whole thing was ferociously ironic. Hana was as agile as a mountain goat. She was probably safe in a car even without a seat belt. She could probably rescue her brother if he fell off.

For a long time, they look into the distance. Ron agonized with himself. _K.P…this is one messed-up sitch. What would you do? _"Hana…Ma-ma isn't…okay. Would you like to stay with Yori?"

Her arms were tightly folded. "No!"

"Would you like to stay with Kay-pee's fam?"

"No!" She was adamant. "Stay with you!" She scooted closer and clung to him. "With you and Roo-fus and Ma-ma and Da-da!"

Ron sighed. "Okay, Boo-bah. We'll work it out."

Hana came away with a lesson…a lesson that was branded into her heart and mind. The truly admirable one was the one who was gone…Kay-pee. She herself would strive to take the absent one's place.

And so Hana became the intense apprentice, as it were, of her Kay-pee's memory. She would be like Kay-pee. It was reinforced by Bru-ther and Kay-pee's da-da, both of whom said that "Kim could to anything."

Hana applied herself to study. She discovered her heritage: the daimyo clan of Noriyuma.

As easily as she had mastered "page", she mastered the study of the Mystical Monkey Power, the _Mahō no saru no nōryoku_

Her brother was the _Yamauchi bun'ya_. The Chosen of Yamanouchi. And the Hachisu Kyōshi, the Lotus Master. And the _Saishū-tekina saru no Kyōshi, _the Ultimate Monkey Master. He wielded the _Hachisu no ha_…the Lotus Blade. She felt a stab of pride.

Then she read of Montgomery Fiske's quest to become the Ultimate Monkey Master, the _Saishū-tekina saru no Kyōshi. _He had managed to assemble the Four Jade Monkeys of the unknown cult of the Trickster Monkey, that blended the two monkey gods, the Hindu Hanuman and the Chinese Sun Wukong. It was in this way the _Mahō no saru no nōryoku_ was conferred upon Fiske, her brother, and Rufus.

The traitor Ishida Fukushima considered her brother a pretender. He gave the _Hachisu no ha _to Fiske to keep it out of unclean hands. At least, he had reasoned, Fiske was a Tai Shing Pek Kwar Master.

There are moments in everyone's life that test their mettle. Cherished childhood beliefs are challenged. Unpleasant details surface. Hana had always assumed her brother always had the _Mahō no saru no nōryoku_ as she had it…from birth. Or perhaps it had been bestowed on him, as the _Hachisu no ha_ had been. She was shocked to discover the true circumstance.

Montgomery Fiske, the tenth Earl of Westchesterwick, was quite mad. He was obsessed with becoming the Monkey King. It was a recurring motif in many cultures; a trickster god who outwitted all his foes and carved out a name and a realm for himself. Fiske scoured the world for the lore and artifacts. He traveled across five continents, gathering what he needed. He had submitted to an unnatural medical procedure, performed on him by the disgraced biogeneticist, Ameliadora Hall. Monkey paws were grafted onto his arms and legs in place of his own hands and feet.

The marvelous ability Hana possessed as a birthright was conferred upon a freak of nature, as a result of exposure to enchanted relics. With those tainted hands, Fiske had handled the holy Blade, her ancestor's weapon, the living heart of Yamanouchi. He was able to awaken the Blade's shape changing abilities.

He had even tried, unsuccessfully, to make off with her and raise her.

Hana was sickened and disgusted. She practically became physically ill. Suddenly, the sense of safety and security she had always derived from being Bru-ther's little sister vanished. She was horrified at the belated realization of how close she had come to being seized by that depraved scientist-turned-shaman and his amoral paramour. Furthermore, suddenly, the possession of the Mystical Monkey Power and the proprietorship of the Lotus Blade by her brother and his beloved pet was seen in a new light.

She would recall the old droll stories of "Wayd" being "sickened" at "Kay-pee's" use of the term "sci-fi". And she would bitterly ponder to herself just how sickening true revulsion was.

She assessed her adoptive family in the light of the teachings of Yamanouchi and the Seven Virtues of the Bushido. Gi, Yu, Jin, Rei, Makoto, Meiyo, and Chugi. Rectitude, courage, benevolence, respect, honesty, honor, and loyalty. Ron Stoppable's loyalty to his beloved was, as Sensei had once said, "Like a great Yakusugi tree that towers above all the other trees around it." The Yakusugi trees were the tallest and longest-lived tree native to Japan. They were held to be sacred.

His natural idleness, what he called his "badical marinating skills", and his natural fearfulness, what he called his "mad running-away skills", were also seen in a new light. He was a spendthrift, both with money and time; a wastrel; a do-nothing. He was not honorable.

A word forced itself into hana's consciousness. _Gaigin. _Alien. Outsider. The same word Ishida Fukushima had used to describe her brother. What if the traitor was right? What if all of the lords and philosophers of the history of her land were right? What if the only way to way to safeguard the legacy of the Han was to adopt the _Sokaku_ mentality?

It was as thorough a conversion experience as if an ancestor come back to life and convinced her. Hana became traditional in her outlook and the more traditional she became, the narrower became her point of view.

She looked narrowly on the personality flaws of her brother. And her parents. And at last anything that was not Nihon-gin. She abandoned the name Hana Stoppable. She took the name Noriyuma Hanako.

It was gradual. Long before she reverted to her birth name, some were already aware of the slow but steady chill in the heart of the Han, the Daughter of the family of Yamanouchi's founder. The Elders of Yamanouchi, Kansumi Yoriko-sama, Abé Hirotaka-sama, and the chiefest Takayama Goro-sama, who had marveled at the Han's superhuman prowess and agility, now grieved at the Han's decent into harsh suspicion and cruel isolation.

There was one who refused to see. Ironically, it was the one who had for all intents and purposes raised her; her Bru-ther.

Noriyuma Hanako arrived at her home after meeting with her brother, her nephew, and the others. She was weary and heartsick. She was disgusted at herself for her temporary loss of face. The story of Kim's frightful transformation and Ron's frightful defense of his family had caused her to behave like a coward.

If it were the old days, she knew what would've been done. One killed without honor, as happened to Possible-san, suffered a loss of face…a concept hardly understood by the Outsiders. She was now an Aragami, an offended Kami. Sensei was right. She sought _Fukushū_…vengeance. Tara Stoppable-san would be compelled to die. And if she were not honorable enough to do by her own hand, it would be by the hand of an appointed agent of the daimyo. That would be the immediate response of the Sensei of the order. And it would be acknowledged as right. And offerings and sacrifices would be made to the aggrieved spirit of the victim, namely Kim Possible-san.

But it was not the old days with the old ways. The people no longer walked the _Shin-To_, the Kami Road, the Way Of The Gods. The Divine Wind no longer blew through the Sacred Trees.

Her home was in Kashima town in the Shimane Prefecture, one of the most rural places in Japan. It was on the coast opposite Tokyo, facing the Sea of Japan and Korea…which was just what Hahako preferred. Here the waves washed on the shore and the cherry trees blossomed on the hills. She had invited her adoptive parents and brother a few times. Ron visited as often as he could, when his missions took him to that corner of the world. Notwithstanding their several trips to Tokyo, Rachel and Abel had never been to that part of the country.

Her home was simple. It was an old traditional wooden house with the _genkan_ entrance foyer and _fusuma_ sliding panels. The _ima_, or living space, was the main part of the house, and the kitchen and bath were in an extension.

Hanako spent some time grocery shopping. Commercial fishing was still viable. She got a quantity of fresh shrimp, and rice and fresh vegetables from a local farmer. She prepared her simple meal at home and reviewed the events of the world online.

On impulse, she retrieved an object. It was the last article from her old life.

The Compassionate Buddha taught nonattachment to material things and passions of the world. The one called the Dalai Lama had once taught. "Attachment is the origin, the root of suffering; hence it is the cause of suffering." The Lord Christ had taught, "Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions." There was a Sanskrit word: _Vairāgya_. Its opposite was _Upādāna_; attachment. The lotus blossom itself was a symbol of nonattachment.

But this…this was special. This symbolized her old faith in her brother. Its foundation was the bond of her brother to his Beloved. And as long as that memory remained pure and untouched, there was a speck of hope. But while her brother had found renewed confidence, the entire circumstance had the opposite effect on her.

Hanako flipped the panel open. For just a moment, she was a toddler once more. _"Boogie in your jammies / Boogie in your heart / Boogie with your families / Doin' the very best part / Lalalalala / Lalalalalalala / Lalalalala / Doin' the Flippy Dance…"_

Hana snatched up the device and hurled it to the floor. She stomped on it repeatedly until it was fragments of plastic and metal. She flung herself on her mat and wailed inconsolably. "Ma-ma! Da-da! Roo-fus! Watashi wa anata o o minogashi naku! Watashi wa anata o aisuru subete no!" _I miss you! I love you all! _"Bru-ther! Kay-pee! Modotte kite kudasai!" _Please come back!_

But they were all estranged from her. They were all gaijin. And the one she respected most…the one she always ached to hear call her _Hana-kun_…that one was a Hag of Hell…a _Yomotsu-shikome_.

_**to be continued…**_


	11. Ch 11 family time gathered 'round

We continue like a semi-busy little beaver. Just when I get to finishing a chpt, a new plot bunny is born, and off I go to retrofit or rewrite my rough drafts. I take note of the reviews coming in. Love 'em all. Will respond to each one individually. Got my big backlog, dating back to 9 / 2010. Taking them on oldest 1st. I'm obsessive like that.

What can I say? This just started with a simple sequel to a fan-story. It's grown into it's own little alternate K.P. universe. Mom Stoppable's bipolar disorder. Wade and Monique's marriage. Monique's murder. Hana's reversion to an obsessive observance of Shinto. Issues of religion, spirituality, morality, literature.

We've done some jumping around. The scene with Sensei and Yori, with Kim, and with Hana all take place more or less at the same time following the conference at Yamanouchi in chpt 5. We now resume a generally chronological sequence.

_**chpt 11**_

_**family time; gathered 'round the ol' cistern**_

…In the world above, Ron took a deep sigh. The deed was accomplished. He had done what no villain ever succeeded in doing: creating the perfect death trap for Kim Possible. If he knew his partner, she was already trying to break out of her confinement. And he could anticipate the irreversible frenzy of rage it would provoke when she discovered her efforts were futile. He swallowed. His throat felt raw with heartsickness.

He and Lon sat on the edge of the cement slab in the back yard. If anyone were to look out the window at them from the house, they would have seen father and son sharing a quiet moment together, each with a steaming mug of Coco-Moo.

Laying on the slab between them was what looked like a Swiss Army Knife with unclasped blade...that glowed with a strange blue radiance. For a brief moment, Ron had put his hand on the object, like a courtroom witness placing his hand on a Bible, and Lon had inconspicuously put his hand on top of Ron's hand.

"Is that it, Dad? That big poof of light? Do I have 'It' now? The Mythical Monkey Power?"

Ron shrugged and laughed somewhat bitterly. "Dunno, son. And it's 'Mystical'. Wanna try and levitate something?"

Lon shrugged. "Nah. Maybe later."

Ron scratched the surface of the cement with the blade of the "knife". There was an electrical blue sparkle and the scratch visibly disappeared.

Lon's eyes bulged with amazement.

"Yeah. We gotta get that gazebo built if we don't want to explain to visitors why our cistern cover behaves like Spark Rock Candy." Ron sipped his mug. "Guess you and me are both _Saru no Ky__ō__shizu _now…or something like that. Monkey Masters."

Lon nodded and sipped his mug. "That's pretty good Japanese, Dad. Although Lorrie Mankey might know more."

"Yeah…about that: saving the world is job one. Keeping it hush-hush is job two."

"Got that. Just wondering, Dad."

"Hmm?"

"Did Mom know it all? About you?

"Yep. All of it."

When I marry, uh, well, y'know, whoever…do I tell before? Or after?"

Ron sighed. "That might be a question for Sensei…or Yori."

Lon blushed. ""Oh, yeah. Ms. Yori."

Ron nudged his son and chuckled. "Oh, **Ms. **Yori, is it?"

Lon blushed harder. "C'mon, Dad. She **is** like a teacher and all."

"My son…sweet on the new teacher."

Both chuckled.

"That's okay," said Ron encouragingly. "I was stuck on her myself."

"How did Mom take it?" asked Lon.

"Your mother and I weren't really dating at that time. But Kim would always frown, and cross her arms, and give me a look out of the corner of her eye." His smile was warm and his gaze faraway. "Yeah. Women are territorial like that. And it didn't bother me at all."

Lon carefully broached a question. "Dad? Are we really on our own? Coach Barkin said you were tight with all kinds of spies and heroes and…other people. You mentioned Dr. Flanner helping you. And Mr. Renton. And Mrs. Flagg. You said Mrs. Barkin used to be a hero. She had her own…powers. Could we ever…get backup?"

Ron looked intently back at his son. "Lonnie…lemme be straight with ya. There's a lotta freaky weird people lookin' for a shortcut to power, both villains and good guys…or at least they're hangin' with the good guys. They're into genetic mutation shit and sacred text shit and more fukked up science than even Dr. Possible could imagine. I've met 'em. They'll steal stuff they have no idea of what it does, and try to drill a hole to the earth's magma or join the continents or suck up the earth's atmosphere or open up a hyperspace wormhole. They'll create giant monsters or carnivorous plants or some damfool thing…you get what I mean. They would dig up…what we got. They would think they could control it. And they wouldn't have a clue. Even the good people."

"Dad…you sound like Sensei."

Ron sighed. "Like Sensei. I wish. Remind me someday to tell you about the time a mood change helmet shot me with a beam and turned me into a villain who wanted all the nacos in the world."

Lon chortled derisively. "Whoa! Sounds completely depraved! Sorta like conquering Wisconsin with melted cheese!"

Ron barked a disdainful chuckle. "Lon…like I said…you have no idea."

Suddenly from the house came a familiar voice. The abruptness was startling. "Daddy?"

It was the ultimate irony. It was Ron's little angel, who bore the name of the devil interred in the ground beneath. "What is it, Kimmie-cub?" He palmed his small sliver "knife", and it faded away without notice.

Young Kimberly Ann Stoppable peered out an open window. Her little mouth frowned. She turned her head sharply, causing her pigtails to flip. Her hair was of her mother's wavy texture and her father's sandy color. Her blue eyes flashed. "Daddy! I hate that name! You know that!"

Father and son chuckled. "Sorry. What did you want to know?" asked Ron.

"What are you and Lonnie doing? I saw a big flash."

Father and son glanced at each other. "Oh…nothing."

Kim looked warily at her father and oldest brother. She was far too familiar with their wily ways. "Are you gonna play a trick on Mr. Renton? Or Mr. Mankey?

Father and son grinned and shook their heads. "We promise you, Kimmie…we're not planning any tricks."

She pursued her interrogation. "Are you talking to Lonnie about the facts of life?" she asked slyly. " 'Cause of his crush on Lorrie Mankey?"

Lon turned crimson. "Oh, mannn…" he muttered.

And Ron stared in shock. "Kimmie! What do you know about the facts of life?"

Kim's freckled cheeks dimpled as she smiled. "Oh, I hear Lonnie and Roy talking about that all the time."

Lon groaned and shook his head. He was busted.

Ron sighed. And laughed. And tried to master the mighty internal conflict. He had somehow become Mr. Dr. P., an indulgent father with two mischievous sons, and an overprotective father with a princess of a daughter. He was also a safeguard…a defender. He stood in the gap between the intimate little family circle and the unimaginably dreadful being.

He had already failed, in a way. He had promised K.P. he would always have her back. He had defused nano-circuit bombs and donned disguises. He had gone mano a mano with men and mutants and machines…with synthodrones and snowmen. He had followed his partner across time and space. Time and again he had faced his deepest fears. And the most sinister plot had arisen among the most intimate circle of friends…in the heart of one who had been a sister to her and a lover to him. Some line of dialogue from some movie came to mind. _Evil is always where you least expect it._

Both Mr. Dr. P. and his father had told him about growing up in the 1960's. It was the Cold War, the uneasy nuclear stalemate between the two global superpowers, the United States of America and the United Soviet Socialist Republic. Each head of state had his finger on the trigger of the gun pointed at the heads of the millions of the citizens of the other country. The first to blink would doom the world. Every family had an underground bomb shelter stocked with food and drink. So if the unthinkable happened, there was a refuge.

But it made no sense. It was bizarre; sick and wrong. Who could live in a world marred by global thermonuclear devastation? Who would want to?. Humanity contained in little concrete bunkers, all because of the egos and jealousy and political ideologies of powerful men.

The whole thing with K.P. and Tara and the fam was like a hideous reverse negative of a photograph. The devastation was contained in the little concrete bunker; it had arisen because of the ego and jealousy of a single cherished friend, and the way to keep his family and the world safe to keep it **in **and his family **out**.

Ronald Eugene Stoppable hated irony. And this sitch was lousy with multiple ironies…

"Dad?"

Ron looked up. "Yeah, Lonnie?"

"You looked like your mind was a million miles away."

"Or a million years ago."

"C'mon, Dad…you're not that old."

"Maybe not."

"Maybe just half a million years."

"Hah! Listen to the kid who's still on his learner's permit!"

The two nudged each other good-naturedly

"But," continued Lon, "I've just been thinking'…how would we build this…gazebo thing?"

Ron pondered for a moment. "I guess we would rent a frontloader with a backhoe. We could raise a mound up over this thing, maybe six feet high, and build the gazebo on top of that."

Lon folded his hands and leaned his chin on them. "I'm just thinking…Roy and I went through a lotta trouble to open the thing up when we thought there was some poor animal trapped inside."

Ron stared at his son. "You're not telling me you what to do that again?"

Lon shook his head vehemently. "No…of course not! But hear me out.

"Go ahead, Son. I've been upfront with you. You know you can tell me anything and it'll be okay."

"I…watched you take it…y'know…**her**…on. And I saw that weapon of yours change from a bo into a katana, and into a pocket knife…"

"…Okay…"

"And Ms. Yori and Sensei told me I have the same power…and we theoretically sealed the cistern shut…but…"

"…But…"

"She wants us all dead, Dad. The only thing between her and me was you. What…if…the spell…the magic charm…what if it wears off? Like while you're asleep? Or if you leave to go to work and it has a power failure?"

"What are you saying, Lonnie?"

"Well…it's like this…until I get the hang of the _Mah__ō__ no saro_…"

"…_Mah__ō__ no saru no n__ō__ryoku_…"

"…Yeah. The Mystical Monkey Power. Well, in all the old movies, they bury the creature, go away, and figure everything is…what's that word you use? Chauncey?"

"Yeah. That's the one."

"But then the creature goes and digs itself out. Didn't Sensei tell us we were lucky? She could'a come up when we weren't expecting?"

"What're you saying, Lon? What do you see happening?"

But Lon had his phone out. He was punching the buttons rapidly. "I got an idea,

Dad. But I gotta go online."

"Okay." Ron had to marvel. He had mastered cell phones easily enough when he was the same age as his oldest. But the new mobile device technology challenged even him. The kids could now what he would have to call Wade Load to do.

Lon held up the little screen for his father to see. "There, Dad! Just like I thought. Look. The famous burial places. The Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron…the tomb of Avraham; and Sara; Yitzchak and Rivka; Yaakov and Leah. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem…the tomb of Christ. The Basilica of St. Peter in Rome…the Vatican Necropolis and the tomb of St. Peter. We covered this subject the other day in Mr. Barkin's History of Religion class."

Ron was impressed by his son's use of the Hebrew names of the Jewish

Patriarchs and their wives. He was impressed by his son's enthusiasm and grasp of this topic in general. "Very interesting, Lonnie. And you're telling me…"

"I'm thinking of a couple things. First…the big shrines were built over the existing graves of all those people. At first, the graves were just modest burial places. It was later that the big buildings got built. Second…in all the games we play…y' know…like Everlot Pantheon and Zombie Mayhem Armada…the enemies always get out of the death traps when they're left unattended."

_Just like what K.P. used to do_, Ron thought to himself. "You're telling me we build the gazebo like fake entrance…with an access tunnel to the cistern."

"Yes! Exactly! We can…y'know…keep watch on it."

Ron regarded his son skeptically. "Won't that make it easier for her to get out?"

Lon looked bluntly at his father. "Dad…if anybody can escape a magical cement prison, a couple yards of earth aren't gonna hold 'em back. And if something happens and we need to get to the cistern quick, we wouldn't have to waste time digging to get to it. And we make the cistern out of steel. It would be like…like a bank with an underground vault. Or a prison with a guard tower."

Ron was impressed. He had seen many incarceration facilities during his stint as a Global Justice advisor. What the kid was saying made a lot of sense. Lon would make a bondigetty warrior. "Sounds good to me, Lonnie. We just won't be able to practice our mad carpentry skills, though."

Lon shrugged. "I can live with it."

There was a noise at the house. Kimmie had come out on the deck. She did a forward flip off the deck and landed on the lawn. She continued in an unbroken series of forward somersaults without her hands touching the ground until she reached her father and brother. They watched, astonished.

Ron felt like he was seeing a doppelganger. His daughter Kimberly Ann Stoppable was moving like Kimberly Ann Possible used to. "Lon…did you know she could do that?"

"Me? No way! I have to almost put dynamite under her to get her to move when I have to give her a ride someplace."

She was dressed in gym shorts and a baggy purple Maddog sweatshirt, with red monogrammed "M", and red neckline and cuffs. Her pigtails were ties with red and purple yarn. She had one red sock and one purple sock.

"Kimmie…do you know what that move is called?"

She puffed slightly with exertion. "Oh…a forward aerial…or forward tuck…or something…but! Daddy! By the way…can I go to the Movie Night At The Park next Friday? With the Possibles?"

Her agility with changing topics was as rapid as her agility with acrobatics. "The Possibles?"

"Uh huh. Ronnie and his parents."

Ron thought a moment. "Sure. Is Roy going with you too?"

Kim frowned with some exasperation. "Daddy! Ronnie asked **me**! Why would my brothers go with me when it like a…a…" She suddenly hemmed and hawed.

Ron also frowned. "…Like a…date?"

Her cheeks flushed brightly. "Daddy…ew! Besides, my brothers are 'way old, and Ronnie and I just **friends**! And it's…it's…Daddy…it's **chaperoned**!"

Ron chuckled inwardly. If being a parent to a daughter had taught him anything, it was the inevitability of little girl crushes. And the futility of perpetual spinsterhood. Like Mr. Dr. P., he was beaten from the start. "Of course you can go. But make sure they get you home by curfew."

Kim beamed. "Thanks, Daddy. You rock!" She kissed him on the cheek and backflipped her way toward the house.

"Remember, Kimmie-cub," admonished her father. "Curfew."

"Daddy!" She scowled at the mention of her nickname and disappeared into the house.

Ron stared at Lon. "How long have you been aware of **this **going on? Between her and Ronnie Possible?"

Lon shrugged. "Lorrie pointed it out to me a couple nights ago. She told me she saw them holding hands at the Scare For Care. I thought it was the biggest thing that would happen to our family this fall…until I came home and found you and Mom fighting…" He curtly nodded his head behind him at the cistern on which they sat. "…_Her_."

Ron sighed. "Time's flyin' Lonnie. Seems like yesterday I was doing missions. Seems like yesterday you kids were just born."

They sat for a moment longer.

"Dad? You know how you tell us to have our head in the game?"

"Yeah."

"I gotta work on applying to Yamanouchi. Now, you told me you're an exchange student. Does that mean they have a curriculum like regular schools? Now, I've been thinkin'…should I transfer there will I'm still in high school? Will my credits transfer? Or should I graduate from Middleton and **then** transfer? Like going to college?"

Ron shook his head and laughed grimly. "If I recall, _Hachisu Ky__ō__shi _wannabe, you're also supposed to win the pretty girl's heart and have some kids, so there're some Stoppables around forever."

Lon became grave. "Dad…what if it's Roy's kids? Or Kim's kids? I know it's kinda early…but what if Kim and Ronnie Possible are…you know…destined? Like karma and stuff? And how and when do I tell the girl I'm stuck on our kids are supposed to be part of some kinda heroic family tree?"

Ron shook his head again, this time without smiling. His son's head was already in the game…perhaps too much. This gloomy and macabre sitch would reshape all of them to an unknown degree. "I dunno, Lonnie. I'm just looking ahead to getting this Alcatraz-disguised-as-a-gazebo built. I guess it's something more to ask Sensei."

Lon went into the house. Ron remained seated for a long time on the cistern lid.

Time never stood still. Lon was already preparing. A victim of assault could have a way of becoming militant, to turn the tables on the assailant.

And this other thing. Kim Stoppable and Ron Possible. Was history repeating itself? Was destiny being fulfilled?

He would have to remind himself…this was why he was doing what he was doing. For them. For young ones growing into the footsteps of their elders far sooner than he expected them to.

When he was his children's age, his best friend had wanted him to nominate her for high school class president. And he became her "campaign manager". He wanted her to curtail her missions. _"As campaign manager, I must veto this mission, This whole 'helping thing' is definitely not helping you in the polls."_

And she had rudely replied, _"I don't care about the fake political deals. I just want to help the people."_

There was that mission where they had to crash overnight at some fleabag hotel on some tropical coast. They had a panoramic view of the ritzy tourist digs across the bay.

Kim was in her pink tank top and shorts. That outfit showed off her red hair something badical. She had called him to the window with a winsome smile. The view was fantastic, with the waving palms, and the moon on the water. And she wrapped herself in his arms. And her words wrapped themselves around his heart.

"_This is why I do it. So the sun can rise… so the ocean can roll. I do it all those people who have a peaceful, simple life I can never have... For good to triumph over evil…" _

Ron knelt with great reverence before the cement slab. He kissed the cold surface. At that moment, he cared not at all whether his family beheld him.

Tears rolled down both cheeks. "That's why I'm gonna do it, too, K.P.," he whispered, his voice a-quiver. "Come hell or high water. It's what you would'a done if I was some kinda Undead freak. Years ago, after you…disappeared…I wanted to bail and dump Hana off at Yamanouchi. Your dad told me to listen to your voice inside me. And I did. Loud and clear. And I always will. We're gonna do it. You and your Ron-dog. Me and my Keem Posseeblay. We're gonna give those people we know and love a peaceful, simple life…a life we can never have." And he gave the hard concrete surface a gentle caress.

_**to be continued…**_

A / N

So I lied. There were some warm fuzzies in the story after all.

…_from __**Family Legacy**__ by daccu65_

"_Yes, Ronnie," the old, blonde woman told him. She flinched, reliving, with her grandson, the moment she had lived with her husband and oldest son those many years ago; the moment that, in their eyes, she turned from a loved, cherished family member to a cold-blooded killer. "After that night, your grandfather rented some earthmoving equipment and built up a raised mound in the back yard, then built a gazebo on top of it. The gazebo conceals a shaft that leads down to the old cistern. You may wonder why the gazebo is made of steel, not wood. It's sturdy enough to act as a brace, in case you ever need to open the cistern."_

A / N continued.

I include a scene from one of the first K.P. fanfic's I read back in 2005. There is a scene in the above chpt based on it. Kim's "This is why I do it" speech is excerpted from that story. I feel it to be as eloquent a statement as I've ever heard of what she is about.

…_from __**Ordinary Girl**__ by Trillian42 (used with permission.)_

_Ron was exhausted. Not that this mission was much more difficult than any other. Kim did what she did best as he had fumbled with the controls of an extremely large and seemingly menacing guise of Drakken's newest 'evil death ray'. By the time Shego and Drakken found themselves sharing a car ride with the authorities, it was well past midnight. Thus, half-way around the world, they had taken refuge in a small motel near the crime scene._

_The room was minute, the beds were lumpy and reeked of God knows what, but to Ron, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Well, most beautiful next to KP, but he was SO NOT going to get into it. Thinking impure thoughts about his best friend lying in the next bed probably wasn't the best idea._

_Keeping true to his promise, every conscious thought fled his body as he fell to the divan. Not even bothering to take off his mission clothes, he pulled back the covers and collapsed beneath the sheets. It was so warm, cozy; Ron could almost pretend he was at home… almost._

_Ron was unsure exactly what had caused him to awaken so suddenly. 'Mom'll want to know what woke me up so easily' Ron thought. He was renowned for his deep sleeping, especially after missions. Turning over in the bed, attempting to get comfortable, Ron realized that he wasn't the only one awake. _

_Kim was standing by the large window their room offered. She was dressed in a petite pick tank top and matching shorts. He couldn't help be drawn in by her image. Her long red hair was glowing in the moonlight. A full moon was half-visible behind Kim's head. Her expression was somewhere between immense concentration and abstract randomness. In all the long years of being best friends, Ron had never seen Kim look so lost and yet at peace in her life._

_Apparently Kim had felt Ron's eyes on her, as her head tilted slightly and she shot him a sweet innocent smile. Ron shot her a weak smile and casually looked away, trying not to blush ferociously. Eventually he decided it was safe to glance at Kim again, but as his eyes made a round-trip, he saw her emerald eyes were still on him. With a slightly amused smile, she beckoned him towards her._

_"Hey Ron, come and look at this." It was said simply; a request that while being only a request was seemingly an order at the same time. Rolling effortlessly out of bed and silently cursing (the gods) for giving him the ability to roll casually out of bed and trip anywhere else, making a complete fool on himself._

_He brought himself up next to Kim, slightly behind her, unsure as to what he was looking at. She smiled at him and pointed out towards the bay. On the opposite coast there seemed to be a party; talking, laughter and music could be heard lightly on the wind. But the truly amazing sight was the water lay before them. It was untouchable. The waves gently rippled of their own accord, reflecting the endless beauty of the sky in its depths._

_"This is why I do it. So the sun can rise… so the ocean can beat. I do it all those people who have a peaceful, simple life I can never have... For good to triumph over evil…" Kim stated, almost in a whisper._

_Unsure of how to respond Ron looked out at the peaceful waters, which come early morning would have young children splashing playfully at its coast. However, for the moment, it was still- almost waiting for something to happen._

_"You did well today KP," Ron reassured to his best friend, "you made a difference". It was true; everything she did was for the world to see. Everything the world saw on TV, it was all a show for them. It was nights like this that showed KP's real nature. She just wanted to settle down and be a regular girl._

_"WE made a difference today Ron," and she gently took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. "I couldn't save the world without you". So with those simple words, she turned back to the window, still clutching his hand tightly within her own. For a moment, Ron was lost to reason. Every ounce of his being longed to take Kim into his arms and hold her close forever. "It really is beautiful…"Kim's voice trailed off, her voice almost a whisper to herself, barely comprehendible._

_"Yes…" Ron began, a lump growing quickly in his throat threatened to choke him rather then let him speak. "Yes you are." He took a deep breath, praying he hadn't pushed to hard, to suddenly. Kim turned to look at him, eyes probing into his mortal soul, searching for truth. She found nothing but friendship, compassion and love in his eyes._

_With that Kim let out a gentle sigh, she leant back against Ron's chest, gently dropping one of his hands and reaching for the other. She placed the palm of his newly confiscated hand apprehensively on her waist. Ron sensed what she was trying to do and rapped his other arm around her waist as she gently melted into him._

_Ron's hands were tenderly stroking the exposed skin under her short tank. Kim softly placed her hands over his, fingers interlocking. Ron rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in her freshly washed hair. He gently caressed her hair out of the way so he could see the beautiful view more clearly…_


	12. Chapter 12 gone to bed

When my flash drive got erased a few months ago this story was essentially ready to post. I just had to work through the scene in chpt 7 where Sensei tells Yori to keep on the alert about Hana. But since then other scenes cropped up. Ron's confrontation with Tara in chpt 9. The chronicle of Hana's journey into close-mindedness.

And this chpt. I couldn't leave things like that between Tara and Ron. That's not his way. Above anything else, he's a man of principle.

There's a line I found from Abe Lincoln. It's the conclusion of his First Inaugural Address, when he tosses the ball back in the court of the Southern States.

I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle-field, and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearth-stone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.

This is what Ron is about; the better angel of his nature.

Here is portrayed the great tragedy of those who can't be together, but still love each other desperately…perhaps even in spite of everything.

My reviewers sometimes comment on how Tara is sorry for her guilt but not necessarily for her sin. It's a touchy subject. A few days ago (Fri. 25 Mar. 2011) was the feast day of St. Dismas. That's the Good Thief, one of the two thieves crucified with Christ.

Luke 23:39-43, One of the criminals who was hanging there railed at him, saying, "Aren't you the Christ? Save yourself and us!" 

But the other rebuked him, saying, "Don't you fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we rightly so, for we are getting what we deserve for what we did, but this Man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when You come in Your Kingdom." 

And Jesus said to him, "I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise."

Sorrow for the deed vs. sorrow for the penalty. Repentance vs. remorse. St. Paul says in 2 Corinthians 2:8-10, For though I made you sorry with my letter, I do not regret it: though I did regret it, but only for a while. I now rejoice, not that you were made sorry, but that you were made sorry enough to repent. You were made sorry as God would intend, that you might not suffer. For godly sorrow causes repentance leading to salvation, bringing no regret: but the sorrow of the world causes death. It's the difference between St. Peter, who denied Christ, but found his way to restoration, and Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Him, and hung himself.

CajunBear speaks in his review of last chpt of plans being laid. I guess that's what's happening here.

_**chpt 12**_

_**gone to bed…but not without supper**_

The Stoppable family was a well-oiled machine when it came to preparing meals. Ron had made the pasta and was making the broth for chicken noodle soup. Lon was slicing and dicing vegetables for the salad. Roy had set the table and was making cheese and sliced turkey sandwiches. Kim was at Dad's elbow, fetching utensils and ingredients, passing them to him unspoken as he needed them, like a surgical technician handing instruments to a surgeon. She stirred the boiling pasta while he prepared the broth, and she stirred the broth while he drained the pasta.

If anyone had Dad's capacity for cookery, it was her. He ruffled her curly golden hair, and said, "That's my assistant chef."

And she grinned and giggled, showing her braces and crinkling her freckled checks.

It was Ron himself who noticed. "Hey…where's Mom?"

"She's upstairs, Dad," said Roy. "Not feeling well."

Lon shot his father a knowing bitter glance. Ron frowned and shook his head in return.

"Should I take up some food to her, Daddy?" asked Kim.

Ron shook his head again. "No, sweetie. I will." He found a breakfast-in-bed tray and began stocking it with dishware, utensils, food, and drink.

Tara was curled up under her covers. She should be up…doing something. Like maybe standing in front of traffic. Or slitting her wrists.

The family was preparing dinner. She heard the sounds downstairs. She could tell by the aroma wafting upstairs. Ron was fixing his chicken soup. She loved it, as she loved everything he ever made.

She heard steps coming up the stairs. Her ears perked up. She knew the footfalls of every person in the household

She sat up in bed and unconsciously primped her hair. And standing in the bedroom door was a sight Tara never expected to see again…her husband, wearing a sad smile, bearing a breakfast-in-bed tray. "I figured you might be hungry. Feel like eating?"

She nodded.

"How's your hand feeling?"

"It's…it's okay"

He sounded so attentive. "I'm sorry about that."

He set the tray across her lap. It held a bowl of soup, a couple sandwiches, a salad with vinegar and oil dressing, and a cup of tea.

She sniffed. "Your soup…it smells delicious."

"Thanks. Kimmie helped."

"And Lonnie made the salad?"

"Yep. Like usual. And Roy made the sandwiches."

She noticed he did not touch her. She realized with a sinking feeling that might be the last touch of his hand on her for the rest of their lives

"Tara, you look like a wreck. You should soak in the tub. I can start the hot water if you want."

Her heart melted. "No…that's okay." She drew up her legs under the covers. He sat at the foot of the bed on her side…._Her heart thudded and her throat formed a lump. His nearness made her feel as giddy and giggly now as it did then in middle school. On their wedding night, he took her to a level…she thought their times together before that had been special…the ecstasy had been almost unbearable…words fell completely short…_

"We gotta decide some things, Tara…" _…He couldn't help but notice the way she moved under the covers…it was so…sensual. And the irony? It was totally not deliberate. It was just how she was. If it had been the night before Halloween, before their world came crashing down, he would've set down the food tray, closed the bedroom door, flung the covers off her, and taken her with a frenzy like a starving man attack a plate of food. He would've given her an orgasmic overdose that would have her begging him to stop. They would've gone at it like horses in heat. But that was then and this was now…_

…_If only she would act evil, like one of the old foes; fake-sweet, like DNAmy; snide, like Shego; conceited, like Electronique; or one of the bitchy historical broads, like…like…Lucrezia Borgia, or Lady Macbeth, or Marie Antoinette, or the one of the de Medicis. If only she would snarl…or cuss…or whatever. But she just looked up with those big baby blues and pathetic puppy pout mouth._

"…Like what we're gonna tell the kids…at least what we're gonna tell Kimmie and Roy. Like why we're not in the same room anymore."

"I'll…I'll tell them we had a fight. You caught me cheating…"

Ron chortled bitterly. "No. If anyone's gonna look like baddy, it'll be me…and I won't put our kids through what you went through with your dad. We'll just have to think up some…medical excuse."

Her cup of sorrow spilled over The feelings welled to the surface. Tara set down her food. She cupped her hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Ronnie…so very sorry…"

Did she still feel in her heart that Kim would've walked out on Ron? She couldn't tell. She was aware only on a very childlike level that everything had come apart. She bore the guilt of her offense, but her family bore the consequences. She muffled the weeping with her hands over her face.

Ron reached toward his distraught wife…and stopped short of placing a comforting hand on her arm. Instead he reached for a box of tissues on the nightstand next to her. She could've reached it…but it somehow seemed a good thing to do.

Tara blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Her nose was red and her mouth was contorted. Her limpid blue eyes looked bloodshot. She hadn't a speck of makeup and her curly golden hair was a rat's nest. She looked older than her forty-one years. But Ron saw the grief-stricken teenager whose father deserted her when she was the same age her middle child was now.

In his mind, he heard Kim's voice, incredulous with heartbreak. _You __**married**__ her? You gave her __**children**__? And you're acting like you still __**love**__ her!_

He responded with a sharp unspoken reprimand to the Kim-voice. _K.P…give it a rest! Please!_

His wife sniffled and sighed. Her fit was past. She gazed at him with stark and attentive eyes.

"Tara…listen…this might be the last time I can talk to you…like this. I know I acted like a putz a while ago. I was abusive. I want to say, I'm sorry, too."

She shrugged. "That's…that's alright." He had expressed contrition. He had apologized. It demanded some kind of response from her. "I…I forgive you. It's not as though I'm innocent…" Her helpless facial expression bespoke her feelings. She was aware of the atrocious inappropriateness; the murderer absolving the abuser. "I mean…after all…I'm a…a…" Her mouth fell open and her eyes welled with fresh tears.

"…I getcha, Tara." He nodded. An unspoken mutual understanding passed between them. "And I just wanna say a few things. Lonnie asked me on the way to Japan if I really would've killed you…and now that I think about it, I can see I'm only human. I got zapped one time on a mission by a machine that kills a person's good side and intensifies their evil side. And for a couple times over the next couple years, I became this villain…Zorpox."

Tara felt a chill to hear her husband talk so earnestly of harboring a temptation to slay her. But she likewise had admitted her own murderous deed. "I remember."

"The point is…I saw my own dark side close up. It wasn't pretty. It still isn't. Rabbi Katz always told us that it was on the inside what made people good or bad." He folded his hands in deep thought. "I don't know if I really wanna hear what you were thinking when you did…what you did…what your reasons were deep down. We're past that now. You sent her to a dark place. And I had to send her back there. She's a zillion times worse than you or I ever were. Or maybe we're all like that, deep down. I dunno. The thing is…we gotta live for now.

"I don't wanna spend the rest of our lives living like your parents…or mine. Your mom tolerated your dad's cheating and it was like a cold war. And my mom…we tried to keep her on her meds, but sometimes she would try to 'wean herself off them'…and we never knew when she might flip out. We gotta fantastic bunch of kids. Lon's gonna be a hero. I mean, damn, I'm proud of 'im. You should be, too. You made 'im what he is today."

Tara almost shivered with excitement. Her son. Her firstborn. She **was** proud.

"How do our other kids fit in? I dunno. But I saw Kimmie doin' moves like I used to see both you 'n' K.P. do for Cheer Squad. And I was like, 'Where did she learn **that**?' "

She smiled sadly. "I've been teaching her a few old routines. She and Ronnie Possible have been comparing notes about both their parents. The cheerleader and the mascot. She found out you were Mascot before Tim and Jim Possible, and she immediately wanted to try out for Cheer Squad herself. I showed her the old pictures. She wanted to try on an outfit with a bare midriff."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. Our daughter, the exhibitionist." They both laughed. There was an easing in the tension. "Am I makin' any sense, Tara? I still need you. I can't take all this on by myself. If we're gonna start a dynasty of heroes, we gotta get the first generation off the ground and outa the nest. Maybe somebody somehow can find a fix for all this, God willing. And any little help is gonna free me up to check those alternatives out."

She nodded. "Ye-yes, Ronnie…you are." It was a chance at atonement of sorts. She grasped at it as though it were a lifeline.

She had listened attentively while he spoke, taking small bites and sips. She was surprised to discover she had eaten everything.

He grinned. "Guess you were hungry."

She smiled shyly. "Guess I was."

Ron took the tray from Tara. Their fingertips brushed. Another sob almost broke from her lips.

Why don'tcha get some sleep?" he said tenderly.

"Okay," she said meekly. She snuggled back into bed.

He drew the covers up to her chin.

"Want the door shut?"

"No. I don't mind listening to the family sounds."

Her eyes followed him longingly as he left the room.

_**to be continued…**_


	13. Chapter 13 in case we want to talk

We come to the dénouement of this little tale. A rarity. A multi-chapter story Randy actually finishes.

I look at the reviews. My man and K.P. fan-author Screaming Phoenix, who was an avid reader of this tale, faithfully reviewed each chpt. before his hospitalization last year. He wondered why Hana had turned so pitiless. Now he's gone to a place where all questions are answered. He's a part of a much bigger tale. So shall we each in our turn, go through the same gate.

A confession. I sent him some early drafts of upcoming chpt's for his perusal…including the pivotal chpt. Kim's liberation. Yes. You heard it here. There is what I hope will be a glorious redemption. At my DeviantArt account, there are already rough drafts of our restored heroine doing missions and interacting with her grandnephew, Ronald Zimmer Possible.

What did he think of my restoration chpt? He never told me. I don't know if he even read it.

What was my goal in writing this tale that is separate from the parent story? To incorporate and tie up some different story threads. The impregnability of the cistern and the building of the gazebo; the establishing of the watch over the caged Beast; the tragic seclusion of a former sister, a former spouse, and a former heroine; the passing on of the torch from father to child and from teacher to student; the unveiling of the heroine's namesake, who is to give birth to the heroine's staunch champion.

One element remains.

_from __**Family Legacy**__ by daccu 65_

_Tara choked back a sob. "There's something about this house you need to know. Back when the cistern was built, before there was running water, someone decided they didn't want to go outside and pump water. They built a channel from the cistern, to a small tank just below the basement's floor level. There used to be a pump in a small room, in the corner of the basement. The pump is long gone; there's just an empty pipe running down to the tank. Your grandfather knew about it and started to go down to that room. He was able to talk to…her."_

_**A BARRIER THAT RESTRAINS **_

_**chpt 13**_

_**conclusion; so we can talk; just in case**_

Tara was in the basement doing a load of laundry. Ron and the kids were upstairs. She sighed. After that wonderful moment of candor last night, he was already avoiding her. The rest of their life together would be characterized by his silent opposition. The quiet _shlush-shlush _of the wash cycle and the gentle _whirr_ of the dry cycle were a pleasant distraction.

She could almost hear Kim's horrific voice. And she realized…she **was** hearing Kim's horrific voice. With a gasp of horror, she spun around to look at what she dreaded. She feared she would confront her terrible Angel of Death, escaped again. With pounding heart, she followed the sound of the clamor.

It was in this way Tara rediscovered the old pipe running from the cistern to the pump room. With ashen face, she came to Ron that night after the children were in bed. "I can hear her…in the basement."

Ron went to investigate. He listened through the door and heard the bellowing screams. It sounded like a choir of demons. The sounds went up and down the scale, from earsplitting soprano shrieks and basso profundo roars. It was almost inconceivable that one voice was responsible for the macabre refrain. It made his hair stand on end. It made the goose bumps on his body stampede from head to toe like the annual _Running Of The Monkeys _on the old Ape Island TV show.

He heard a sound behind him and turned suddenly. It was Tara. They both jumped, startled. Tara stifled a yipe of terror.

"What the hell are you doin', Tara?" he hissed. "Sweet jeez! Scarin' me half to death!"

Tara started to whimper…

…And Ron glared at her harshly and put a finger to his lips. "If we can hear her, she can hear us!" he said in a fierce whisper. We have to keep the kids away!"

"Can…can I help?"

"No! I'll get Lon!"

His conscience reproved him. Tara had shown considerable bravery while they were fighting Kim, and presence of mind after hearing Kim's voice. She had come to him in good faith, after their conversation together. She looked less fearful that he felt. In fact, her look of hurt after his rebuke was more evident than her look of fear.

And he scolded his conscience back. The tenderness he had felt earlier when bringing up a plate of food had faded again. This whole sitch was her fault. It didn't matter how much love or courage she displayed. Nothing she could ever do could make up for or undo the awful deed. Not in this life; or the next.

He went upstairs to wake Lon. "Sorry, son. I need your help. We might to try out some mad carpentry skills after all."

The groggy youth wearily shuffled out of bed.

Ron explained the circumstance and the solution he had improvised as they went down the basement stairs. Lon turned white.

"I need your help, Lonnie. We've gotta do this quick and quiet."

Ron had some old mission related stuff around the house. The Stoppable packrat trait that caused his parents to stuff their garage with boxes, belongings, and an old lawn elf was alive and well in their son. He still hoarded items. They gathered up several sheets of insulating material and a container of adhesive.

"Dad? Where's this stuff from?" asked Lon.

Ron shrugged. "Who knows, Lonnie? Might be from your grandparents…might be from the Possibles…or the Loads. But we're gonna put it to good use tonight.

They worked swiftly and silently. Ron applied the adhesive to the inner surface of the pump room door with a tool like an old caulking gun. He and Lon positioned a sheet of the material over the door. Ron applied another layer of adhesive and they stuck another layer of insulation…and then a third for good measure.

All the while, Kim's evil blasphemies and shockingly explicit threats floated up to where they worked. Lon covered his ears while his father applied the adhesive. But while he helped place the insulation, he heard every lurid syllable.

Ron watched his son carefully. The kid had a heap of nerve; but both their nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Kim had no idea they were there; one noise, and she would be alerted; and would probably unleash a tidal wave of even more obscene and gory epithets.

At last, they were done. As a precaution, Ron oiled the hinges...which thankfully, had not squeaked so far. He closed the door and padlocked it. Father and son gasped in relief. They were both soaked with sweat.

"There…that insulation is heatproof…and soundproof. And that glue will hold longer than the walls of this house." Ron hugged his son. "Thanks, Lonnie. Thank God for you. You're a helluva guy."

Lon stared at his father. "Dad…why don't we just glue the door shut?"

Ron stared with hollow eyes at his son. "No…I can't. We had to do this to keep your brother and sister away…and it'll be hard enough explaining why the door's locked. But sealing it permanently would just make them suspicious. Besides…" He wavered uncertainly. "Besides…I might want to…talk to her."

Lon was incredulous. "**Talk**…!" He pointed incredulously at the door. "…To…**that**? To **her**?"

"Yes." Ron nodded. "To her."

"**Why?" **The single word freighted of loathing and skepticism.

"Because…maybe I can…" Ron licked his lips and tried hard to form the words. He tried hard to sound convincing. "…Change…change her mind."

The horror and incredulity in the eyes of Ron's son at that moment rivaled the horror when he came home on Halloween to see his parents grappling with a thing ghastly beyond imagining. The boy struggled to speak…and could not.

Now more than ever, Ron wished he had raised his children with the tales and recollections of his first love. He had not; out of regard for their mother; before he knew of her role in his first love's fate. "Lon…if you knew Kim personally…if you knew what kind of person she was…you would understand…" He trailed off.

Lon saw the fire in his father's eyes; he heard the tenderness in his father's voice at the mention of the former heroine. The skepticism he felt when Mr. Barkin told him of his father's exciting past with Global Justice was utterly dwarfed when they had been at Yamanouchi. He had heard a tale from the breathtakingly lovely Yoriko-san, and the roguishly friendly Hirotaka-san.

Lon's father was a…what were the words?…a Bosatsu…a divine embodiment, a reincarnated warrior. A Hachimantaro; the very essence of some ancient god. Ron Stoppable's exploits would be remembered for ages. He wielded an unknown magical power. And according to the old sensei, Lon himself also had it. It was like listening to the Odyssey and the Arabian Nights and the stories of King Arthur, Robin Hood, and Lord knows who else, and being told it was about his family.

With a pang, Lon was filled with realization. Much that had been shared at Yamanouchi suddenly became even more clear. Kim Possible had once been his father's fairy tale princess; and very much a mythical warrior goddess. And his own mother was a Wicked Witch, or a Judas Iscariot, or a Lady Macbeth by comparison.

What was more, his father still loved the horrendous creature. And the young man realized; try as he might, that was something he would never ever understand.

Suddenly, the fascination and sense of adventure associated with becoming a ninja faded. Lon didn't want a legendary heritage or a supernatural power. All he wanted was his old life back. "Dammit, Dad!" he suddenly blurted out. "What a stupid bitch Mom was! Look at the mess she caused…!"

Ron lightly cuffed his son on the side of his head. It was not hard; barely an open-handed tap. But it shocked them both. "Don't you be talking like that! Your mother and I raised you better than that! What would your grandparents think...?" He felt stricken. _There was no reason to go all spastish on Lon. For Heaven's sake…the boy had been to Hell and back…several times over_.

For the fragment of a moment, Lon was taken back to a simpler day, when his father might firmly but gently mete out a rare discipline for some extreme wrongdoing.

Father and son stared at each other with stark tragic intensity. Then they embraced each other, weeping.

"I'm sorry, Lonnie," said Ron, sobbing quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too, Dad," said Lon, also sobbing. "Me, too."

Arms around shoulders, father and son painfully ascended the stairs, like disheartened warriors after a disastrous defeat. They were now aliens and survivors, fellow victims marooned on a tiny island. The comfy old family home had become a tainted place. The back yard, once the site of croquet games and barbecues, had become the scene of a crime against humanity.

The basement, with its washroom, workshop, and utilities, used to be a familiar place. It had now become a haunted place, a portal to a den of horror. It was a place reminiscent of Dante's Inferno, complete with disembodied voices and a sealed doorway.

A week ago, they had been a normal family. Raking leaves and roasting marshmallows. Preparing for Halloween and looking forward to Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and Christmas. Then the earth upon which they had walked opened, and brought forth a mad ghoul…and they would endure the repercussions for the rest of their lives. As far as they knew, the family would bear the consequences for the rest of time.

Ron would make the journey to Perdition and back, every Halloween, for the rest of his life. And afterward his widow would at last gather her courage and seek audience with the Unliving Thing.

He could not foresee…at least not consciously…a son of their family would one day descend the stairs.

It would be his daughter's oldest; a son who bore Ron's name; a lad with Ron's face and Ron's heart of love for the former champion.

He would be the heir of two houses. In him would intermingle the intellect and optimism of the Possible personality, the childlike simplicity and faith of the Stoppable strain, and the teaching of Yoriko Kansumi.

The young man would dare the very deed his grandfather dreamed of. He would walk through the horrid door and converse with the horrid creature…with the hope beyond hope and the belief beyond belief of reclaiming Kim Possible.

But that is another story.

_**The end…for now.**_


End file.
